


Saints and Sinners

by nerdofsorts



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Precious Peter Parker, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-22
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-06-14 10:05:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 31,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15386418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdofsorts/pseuds/nerdofsorts
Summary: Spider-Man wasn't the only enhanced individual that Tony was keeping an eye on... And Pete doesn't know what to think of the latest recruitment...You can't blame him for not trusting people with wings.





	1. Bad Publicity

**Author's Note:**

> Yo hey guys, welcome to the first fic I'm uploading to this blessed site... I thought I'd start off with a pure action/humour/maybe romance idk/little bit of angst because I have a couple of hugely whump fics on their way and I don't want to crush our favourite bug boy in every story hahaha... So you know expect easy-to-get-over pain in this one lads :)

Peter didn’t quite know what to say as he looked up at his mentor.

“You want me to what?” he asked, a little dumbfounded.

“I want you to come with me as a model recipient of the September Foundation,” Tony repeated, opening up the fridge as he did so. “Do you want a drink or something?”

“I’m good, thanks. Mr Stark I’m not a part of the foundation, and you know it – that was just a rouse for you to get into my apartment,” Peter crossed his arms.

“Let’s just say you’re in a different branch,” Tony said allusively. “I mean, I did give you a multi-million-dollar suit and all that.”

“How am I supposed to be a model representative when no one knows that you gave me, Peter Parker, the suit?”

“They don’t need to know that you’re Spider-man. This is more about a recruitment of sorts, and it’ll look even better if you’re with me. Who knows, the kid might be as stupid as you were and try to turn me down initially, for _homework_.” He was pouring some kind of health blend smoothie into a glass as he spoke. He took a sip and grimaced. “Pepper insists,” he explained, sitting it back down on the bench.

“Wait, he’s got powers? You’re going to help another vigilante?” Peter sounded surprised. He hadn’t known that Mr Stark was interested in taking on other enhanced teenagers. Maybe this meant that there were bigger plans for more missions…

“She, actually, spend doesn’t her time stopping cars with her bare hands. I’m guessing you’ve seen this video?” Tony brought up a hologram of security footage outside of a gas station that had been leaked onto YouTube. The picture was awful and grainy, but Peter recognised it instantly. It had been all over the news and blown through Midtown High like a hurricane.

The girl’s face was partially obscured from the camera by her hood as she emerged from the shadows on foot and walked into the store. The footage was trimmed to skip forward a few minutes to see the same girl leaving the store, pausing to light a cigarette before rounding the corner. Moments later, the guy from behind the counter walked out through the doors, looking around suspiciously before following her around the corner with his hands in his pockets.

It was clear that his intentions weren’t good.

When Peter had first seen the video, Spider-Man had reared up inside him with a need to jump in to save the girl. That need to protect was still there as he watched, but it was no longer for the girl.

The man came back around the corner stumbling, and it was obvious even through the poor quality that he was scared.

When the girl came back into view, her presence was overshadowed by the two huge, black wings that were now protruding from between her shoulder blades. They were arched up in an aggressive stance, and her steps were of a murderous purpose. With one graceful yet powerful swoop of her wings, she leapt forward and struck the man square in the back, sending him sprawling to the ground.

He took it hard and struggled to get up, while she just stood there and watched on, satisfied with her work. She took one last puff of her cigarette before dropping it and squishing it with her boot.  The man however, who had been swaying on his knees, suddenly collapsed as she pressed her foot to the ground. She spun on her heels and left the scene. Her wings trailed lightly on the ground behind her as she retreated into the shadows and the night swallowed her.  The man was left lying on the ground, unconscious.

The video ended, and Tony minimised the hologram. He looked over at Peter, waiting for an opinion.

“Everyone everywhere has been talking about her. I heard rumours that the guy lived. The public are starting to distrust people with powers now because of her, and Spider-Man is copping it even more than usual.” Peter grumbled. This girl had been nothing but bad news for him. The Daily Bugle was feeding off the footage like crazy, and started throwing out accusations that Spider-Man might start maiming or even killing, and should be taken off the streets.

 “You’re right, the man survived. His details are being concealed for his safety, but I got his whole file, obviously. The lower half of his spine from the T12 down were completely shattered, and his spinal cord was torn apart. The only thing on his record is a restraining order from an ex-girlfriend. If he recovers, he’ll be a paraplegic,” Tony’s tone was grave. “F.R.I.D.A.Y. managed to ID the girl from one of the frames as Venice Matthews. I’ve seen what the media is saying about you kid, and that’s why we need to go and get Miss Matthews under control. The Avengers has had enough bad publicity, I don’t want you to have to go through the same thing. You’re free from the Accords at the moment, and I’d like to keep it that way.” Tony explained, deadly serious. Peter nodded in agreement. He had read about the Accords. He knew that they prohibited vigilante behaviour, and if he signed… that would basically mean the end of Spider-Man. There was no way that he could let that happen.  

“Alright, so when are we going to meet her?”

“Tomorrow. I’ll meet you after school, her address is listed not too far from there. Now, onto the fun stuff, I’ve been toying with a new formula for your webbing – this one with some added strength in case you ever decide to crack open a ferry again,” Tony looked over his glasses at Peter as he walked around from behind the bench. Peter cringed a little at the memory as his mentor slapped a hand over his shoulder and lead him down to the labs.

 

* * *

 

Venice stood outside the entrance to the hospital, her heart rate rising with every second. She could hear the cries of suffering and grieving people all the way from out here, and the voices made her stomach flip, in a bad way. Normally she could block them out with ease… but at places like this, there was too much will behind the screams for them to be ignored.

People moving in and out of the doors were shooting her strange looks as she stood there, paralysed. Venice knew that she had to go in… She had to fix what she had done. Her brash actions were a sensation all over the media, and those who were actually heroes were being dragged down with her. That was her only motivation in being here. If it wasn’t so public… Well, it’s not as if the bastard hadn’t deserved it.

But she had made her father a promise, and she couldn’t break it to him. He was the only one who had stood by her all these years, who had tried to help her. Venice owed it to him to clean up her own messes.

She drew in a deep breath and steeled herself to go inside. She made each step purposeful, and tried to ignore how the dull ache in her head was growing exponentially with each step. Her hand weakly grasped at the door handle, and she used her whole body to push open the door.

As soon as she crossed over onto the premises, the wails grew ten-fold inside her mind, and black spots started to cloud over in the corners of her vision.

Venice couldn’t help but collapse with her shoulder against the wall, holding her hand to her head. She had thought maybe she had it more under control now, that she could get away without numbing out her abilities…

A nurse noticed her fall almost immediately and rushed over to her.

“Miss, miss are you alright? Where’s the pain?” she asked, but Venice tried to fend her off with closed eyes. She barely registered the nurse talking, the thoughts drowning out her actual voice.

_Oh god, she looks awful. She must be tripping on something, maybe it’s that new drug that all the kids are hooked on. If she’s OD’d then we need to get her to the ER now. Or it could be a psychotic break? God where’s Daniel when I need him…_

The nurse’s thoughts left Venice gasping. “I’m fine, just give me a second,” She groaned, turning over so that her back was against the wall. Guide them away, Venice chanted to herself. Guide their thoughts away and back into their own minds, clear your head for yourself.

She heard the nurse call for help as the voices faded from her mind. They flowed past her now, a channel she could tune into when she wanted, but for now she was safely ashore.

Being able to listen to other people’s thoughts wasn’t always smooth sailing.

She rose to her feet and looked up at the nurse who had been helping her.

“Sorry about that… The smell of a hospital always gets to me, you know?” she joked and smiled, trying to reassure the lady that nothing serious had been happening.

It was going to take more than that, clearly. The nurse was still eyeing her off suspiciously. “Are you sure dear? Maybe you should come with me..”

“Actually, I’m here to visit my uncle, Nathan Glower? I heard he was attacked,” Venice put as much concern and fear into her face as she could, which was hard. She was glad the prick was suffering.

“Could you point me to his room?” she added.

“There are only twenty minutes left of visiting hours,” the nurse warned, “but he’s still in the ICU. Room 13C.” she said, pointing down one of the hallways.

“That’s plenty of time, thanks,” Venice replied before abruptly walking away in search of the room.

She made it there in three minutes. As she looked on at the crumpled body kept alive by endless tubes, Venice found it hard not to walk away and leave him like that. Nobody else knew what a disgusting man lived inside that head, and she was sure that more would be understanding if they knew.

Memories of what she had heard in him think _that_ night replayed through her mind, and her gaze hardened on his face. The screams and sobs of the other teenage girls he had thought of made her snap, and if she wasn’t careful, she might be tempted to do it again. It wasn’t _fair_ that someone like him would go on without punishment, and all those other girls he had assaulted had to deal with his actions.

Venice gritted her teeth as she let herself into the room and sat down beside him. She inwardly was seething at what she had to do next, but that damn promise that she had made her father was branded into her brain – if she broke it, she didn’t know what she would do with herself.

“I hope you suffered to hell you prick,” Venice whispered harshly, and then she reached out with her mind to his body.

She knew exactly where the damage was – she had crushed the bones herself. As quickly as she could she urged the cells to move back together and bond as they had before she ripped them apart. She started with the bones that were pinned together with rods of metal that the doctors had used in an attempt to salvage the man’s spine. They had made her job a lot easier, all she had to do was ‘glue’ them back together.

Once the vertebrae were rectified, she moved on to feel the pain emitting from the nerves themselves. She traced the cells with her mind and guided them back together, she was nearly done…

She paused.

There was only a fraction of his spinal cord left to heal, but Venice couldn’t bring herself to do it. Nathan would be able to walk, but his right leg would be a little bit fucked for the rest of his life. He probably wouldn’t ever move without a cane.

And Venice didn’t give a rat’s ass.

She was done. She had mended the broken promise to her father not to hurt anyone. Even he, she thought, would condemn a rapist. Venice hadn’t taken anything serious away from Nathan’s life… She had probably saved it. However, she had left enough of a mark that he would be reminded of his mistakes every moment of every day.

That would have to do.

She stood up and glared one last time at the asshole on the bed. He remained unconscious, unaware that he had just been granted the second chance he didn’t deserve. Venice left the room with a quickened pace, unable to look at him for another moment. Up ahead she could see the nurse from earlier, and she hyped herself up to start crying.

Her eyes were watery as the nurse turned her attention to Venice. Her face turned sympathetic as she noticed the girl’s crocodile tears.

“Oh honey, I’m sorry. If it’s any consolation, the doctors are hopeful that he will wake up,” the nurse tried, but Venice shook her head.

“I’m sorry, it was just so hard to see him like that. I have to go,” she brushed past the nurse and hurried out the doors. Once outside the doors, it was like a switch had flipped. She regained her composure immediately, and shoved her hands into her pockets. On to more important things - like what she was going to make for dinner. From memory, her pantry was looking pretty bare, and she was going to have to get creative. 

There was a pang in her chest as she thought about having to cook a meal for one. Evenings with her father were easily the highlight of her day, as they would find the craziest new recipes to try. More often than not they ended in a mild disaster, but that was half the fun. As a result of these nights, Venice could scrape a meal together out of just about anything, a skill that had come in handy more than once. 

It wasn't as if the Matthews' home was often empty of food, it's just that it often slipped Venice's mind to drop into the grocer to stock up, now that her father wasn't around. He was a part of a team of doctors who traveled the world for weeks at a time to third-world countries to volunteer. He had grown up with most of the people that he went with, and the trips were something he held close to his heart. 

Venice didn't hold anything against him for travelling so much. Of course she missed him like crazy, but she admired his heart and the need he had to help other people. He intended to take her with him once she graduated, especially after she went to him about her gifts. When she had come to him about her gifts... well he was over the moon. He brought her to work with him when ever he could, and together they helped people get better. It was what helped Venice get through each long week of school, and kept her feeling from being an outcast for what she could do. He even took her to a whole heap of psychics to try and understand her telepathy, and how to control it. 

What had scared her mother away had brought her and her father even closer together. 

The only thing that her father didn't know, is how she hid her wings from the world. He knew that she cast some kind of spell over them, but he didn't know the full extent of what that spell cost. Nor would he ever find out. 

On her way to the train station, a gentle patter of rain started to fall. Venice hunched over as it gradually became heavier, woefully unequipped with just a sweater on.

Yeah, tonight she was definitely treating herself to a hot bath with Netflix.


	2. Nothing Remains a Secret

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woo chapter 2! Thank everyone for the kudos on the first one:) the beginning of this one was a bitch to write and it still sucks, but it's as good as it's going to get while I'm procrastinating my school work lmao. Please let me know what you think of this one! I've started to plan out a few things I really want to include in this fic, so it's getting some kind of direction now which is cool.

Ned had a similar reaction to Peter when he found out what Tony had asked of him.

“You guys are going to recruit that chick with wings? But she’s a criminal!” He whispered in a harsh tone.

Peter nodded along. “I know! That’s why we have got to do something about it, because is someone enhanced is hurting people. If she keeps going, soon not just the Bugle is going to hate Spider-Man. At least that’s what Mr Stark says,” Peter explained, remaining loyal to Tony’s idea… Even if he didn’t like it all that much.

To him, better idea sounded like locking her up in one of those super secret places made for people like her. Obviously, he wasn’t going to tell Mr Stark he thought that it was ridiculous to bring on a criminal, but it reassured him to know that Ned felt the same way.

“Yeah, well I _guess_ that makes sense. I mean, the Avengers kind of have a knack for turning around ex-cons, don’t they?”

“I still don’t know if I like the idea. Forgive me for not trusting someone with wings,” Peter grumbled.

“Shit, right, sorry dude,” Ned apologised quickly, realising that they had moved onto a touchy subject.

Peter of course had given his best friend a run down of the night he took down Toomes, but there were always going to be things that he didn’t tell his friend. And Ned respected that. Ned also knew that the night of Homecoming wasn’t a favourite topic of Peter’s.

Pete didn’t get a chance to respond as MJ slid into a seat opposite them at the lunch table.

“What are you losers talking about?”

“Just how Mr Harrington is still oblivious to the fact that we don’t care how his wife left him,” Ned carried on smoothly.

“We hear about that enough when we are around him, why are you idiots prolonging the agony into lunch?” she wondered, focussed rather intently on poking a straw into a carton of chocolate milk.

“Do you have a new topic then?” Peter asked her.

“Alright,” she paused, taking a sip. “How about the fact that no one is talking about that guy who was messed up by that chick had a history of assaulting teenage girls?” she brought out her latest book and began studying the cover as she waited for the boys to respond.

“How do you know that?” Ned pursued, and both of them leaned in to hear more.

“I like to conduct my own research rather than base my opinion of off bias media sources and attention seeking YouTubers,” she said dismissively, having opened the first page and already diving into the story.

“Damn,” Ned murmured as he turned to Peter questioningly. He shook his head, as in no, Mr Stark _hadn’t_ told him about that. It was a pretty important detail to leave out too.

The boys knew that once MJ dove into one of her books that she didn’t like to be interrupted, just throwing her opinion occasionally into the conversation. At first it was kind of off putting, but now it just felt normal.

“Well, there’s still no need to try and kill someone,” Peter tried to reason, unsure of why he was still trying to defend the man. He just couldn’t seem to let go of the bitterness that he felt towards this ‘Venice Matthews’. Peter didn’t want to defend the guy, now that he might have assaulted girls, but he also didn’t want to all of a sudden forgive and support a girl who had done so much damage.

“I think MJ is right – maybe she’s not as bad as the media is making her out to be,” Ned shrugged, but that just annoyed Peter more. Did his best friend just totally forget that her actions were causing him all kinds of grief? He may not even be able to continue as Spider-Man if the media sensation continues…

He hadn’t gotten to tell Ned about the threat of the Accords before MJ had joined them.

Unable to talk anything Spider-Man due to MJ’s presence, they safely steered clear of anything further related to ‘the video’ and continued on talking about lighter topics.

Topics such as Peter’s up and coming 17th birthday.

Ned argued that this year was going to be way, way more awesome than last year because of his new ‘internship’ with Mr Stark, and Peter argued right back that the ‘internship’ wasn’t going to change a thing. And he firmly believed it too.

Peter had turned down the offer to join the Avengers, so why would they all of a sudden care about his birthday? If Mr Stark remembered to send him a text he would be stoked. Peter was happy with what he was planning anyway – a nice dinner out with May and Ned’s family. Maybe MJ too if she wanted to join them, but Peter was yet to figure out a way to approach the subject with her.

He had three weeks left to ask her, which was plenty of time in his mind. Regardless, as of three days ago when the girl with wings turned up, summoning the balls to ask MJ to catch up after school was no longer a priority.

At the end of lunch, the trio split off in three different directions for their final classes of the day. Sitting through the last period has, and always will be, agony for Peter Parker. Before the bite, it was about getting out of school and away from people like Flash as fast as he could. After the bite, and he had taken on a new identity, it was about getting out there onto the streets to help people and take down crooks.

Today, the clock seemed to move even slower than before, if that was even possible. His mind was whirring at ridiculous speeds, jumping to all kinds of conclusions about what might happen this afternoon. He had this feeling that Mr Stark wanted more from her than just to hide from the media. The word recruitment kept floating around in his head. Was Mr Stark looking for a new prodigy since Peter had turned down his offer to officially join the Avengers? He hadn’t known that his mentor had been monitoring other people with powers, although it made sense.

The thought stressed Pete out. He had spent the last six months thinking that he was Mr Stark’s kid, and he didn’t want to suddenly be put to the side as the billionaire found a new and more exciting super-human to mentor. _Twice_ already he had lost the important two men that he looked up to in life, and, while he would never admit it to anyone else, Tony had filled that spot. He was no Uncle Ben, but he inspired Peter in other ways. May and Ben had set the foundations, and now May and Tony were helping Peter to build some one good out of it.

He didn’t know what would happen if Mr Stark pushed Peter to the background.

 _Stop worrying,_ he chastised himself, _Mr Stark said he was doing this for_ you. _So that the United Nations wouldn’t force you to quit being Spidey and sign the Accords, because of the bad reputation that Venice was giving everyone._

The suspense of this afternoon’s meeting was almost killing him by the time the clock’s arms landed on half past two. Mr Stark had agreed with Peter when he suggested they meet ten minutes before school ended to avoid a scene. Obviously, Tony was well practiced at dealing with crowds, but Peter wasn’t so much.

He also didn’t want to risk having Flash belittle him in front of Tony. Flash’s efforts to reduce him to nothing were still a daily occurrence, and he did not need Mr Stark to see that right now. So, twelve minutes before the school day was due to end, he stuffed all his books into his latest backpack and bolted out the door. Mr Harrington was calling out after him, and Peter was fairly sure that he had a detention coming for this. But there was no way that he was explaining in front of the class that he was skipping out early to meet up with the billionaire. He wasn’t in the frame of mind to be ridiculed even furtherX over the ‘internship’.  

The hallways were quiet and most importantly free of other students as he awkwardly half walked-half jogged towards the front doors. It was amazing how quickly he could move around the school when there weren’t other people clogging it up.

He burst out of the doors, and spotted an extremely expensive car with heavily tinted windows sitting idle out on the street. Undoubtably Mr Stark and Happy were waiting for him inside. On a last second thought, he threw a glance behind him to make sure he was alone before he ran up to the fence and lept over it.

He landed naturally, as if he hadn’t just cleared a seven-foot fence with almost comical ease.  

A sensation of dread was slowly manifesting in the pits of his stomach as he slid into the back seat, but he pushed it down even further and tried to keep his cool as Tony greeted him.

 

 

“God, how do you survive going to that wretched place every day,” Tony wondered aloud. “Trust me when I say that college trumps the high school experience _by far,_ ” he reassured the kid.  

“Eh, today was alright, they served pizza at the cafeteria,” Peter shrugged.

“Kid, I know a great place in Milan that serves pizzas sent from the heavens. I’ll have to take you there some time,” Tony grinned and laughed a little as Peter’s eyes widened.

They were interrupted as Happy cut in. “We all good to go back there, Boss?”

“You know I was kind of wondering myself why we were still sitting outside of this incredibly charming high school,” Tony replied, and Peter heard Happy shift the car into gear. As he gave one last look at the doors, something down by the steps caught his eye.

Partially hidden by shadow, the one and only Michelle Jones leant against the stairs with her book in her hands. Only she wasn’t looking down at its pages.

She was looking straight at the car.

Happy was already pulling away from the curb, not giving Peter a chance to do anything, like freak out. Which he thought would probably be an appropriate reaction for the situation at hand.

Instead, he sat there frozen as his blood ran cold, staring straight ahead at the back of the leather car seat.

Tony noticed the sudden drop in the teenager’s energy, and frowned with concern at the kid’s pale features. “You alright there Pete?”

The question stirred the boy back to life. He cleared his throat quickly before replying. “Yeah, uh, yeah I’m fine. I just remembered something, but I’ll deal with it another day.” He stuttered, nodding to himself and taking a few deep breaths. Tony was beyond confused at what had suddenly gotten his kid all worked up, and was a little worried.

“Remember how I told you to operate in that little grey area?” he asked, and Peter nodded. “Right, well putting off problems is something that I _definitely_ do, and I thought we agreed that you wouldn’t do anything I would?”

Peter laughed quietly. “I’ll get onto it tomorrow.” Tony raised an eyebrow. “Okay, maybe I’ll deal with it tonight. Right after the current problem, which is convincing Venice Matthews to stop trying to kill people.”

 

* * *

 

Whatever had set Peter into a panic in the car was soon forgotten as Tony told him a little more about what their game plan was. Venice’s life was hard to crack – all that Tony knew for now was that she lived with just her father, who was a respected paediatrician and he travelled the world almost as much as Tony did.

He was very taken aback when Peter told him what he had heard about the victim’s history. Most of his time had been consumed in hunting down Miss Matthews, but the fact that he had missed something so important about Nathan played on his nerves. He knew that the restraining order that had been issued was for harassment, but he didn’t know that the case went beyond just the ex-girlfriend.

“All she said was that she did her own research because she doesn’t trust mainstream media… MJ doesn’t really talk much,” Peter had said when Tony had pressed him on how he had found this out.

He was kind of impressed that a teenage girl had sought this information out. It was a refreshing kind of initiative that many people lacked these days. They were all too happy to lap up any crap that the press fed them. Tony was glad that Pete was surrounding himself with people like that.

Happy eased the car to a stop and switched off the engine, settling himself down with his tablet in the front seat. Tony turned to Pete before they got out. “You got the plan?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Peter confirmed, “You’ll do the talking, and I’ll stand there as a vote of confidence for the Foundation. I’ll try and pick up anything from her with my Spidey-sense. When you take Venice to confront her privately, I’ll keep her father entertained and lie about what I do in the foundation.” He ticked each job off on a finger as he went.

Tony gave him a thumbs up and opened up his door. “We’ll be back in about half an hour Hap,” he spoke to the driver, who was already engrossed in whatever official document he was reading on the tablet.

He noticed as they stood out on the street how Peter drank in the real estate that surrounded them. The Matthews lived in a very nice area – the two-story houses were spread out and divided by deep and lush gardens. It offered each house an element of seclusion, whilst still allowing for the owner’s wealth to be flashed at those passing by. The houses weren’t of mansion status by any stretch, but they definitely weren’t within the budget of any middle class citizen.

He was straightening up his jacket when Peter spoke up again.

“Hey Mr Stark?”

“Yeah kid,”

“Is now a bad time to tell you that I’m kind of really bad at lying?”

Tony sucked in a deep breath. “You know what Pete, yeah it probably is. Get your ass in there and just pretend the suit was money and Spider-Man is your project or something. You’re a smart kid, I’m sure you’ll think of something.”

 

* * *

 

Venice knew that something had gone wrong with her cloaking spell. She had suspicions that it wouldn’t work properly, but she had to give it a shot. The book said that the ritual had to be performed under the light of a full moon – but that was over a week away. She couldn’t afford to wait that long.

She had only broken through the enchantment once before, and her father had been around to help cover for her. He had arranged it so that she could hide away for two weeks until the next full moon, and made sure that no one would spot her. But he was out of the country this time, and he was only a third of the way into his six week trip. Venice had no one around to help her stay hidden – she would have to leave the house long before he returned.

The spell had held steady for three days, and she thought that maybe she had gotten away with it. But as Venice had readied herself for another day of school, she noticed it in her mirror. The shadow cast on the wall was far too large for that of a girl. The shape of her wings could just be made out, huge masses tucked away behind her body. As she had turned slowly in the mirror, she could see the shadow of them rest behind her back.

She had collapsed to her knees, make up brushes clattering around her as she dropped them. She couldn’t leave the house now, not when she was on top of New York’s most wanted list. Her father had told her over and over again in explicit detail what would happen if she was exposed. The ways she would be torn apart in the name of research, or put to work healing those that could afford her powers.

That wasn’t how they were supposed to be used. Venice tried to heal as many people as she could, but her abilities weren’t something to be marketed. It was the last thing she wanted.

She simply couldn’t risk the slightest chance of being recognised.

Venice’s room held one of the most extensive private collections of ancient texts in North America. That was where she had spent her entire day, elbows deep in scrolls and leather books. Most these she had read already in her initial quest to hide her true form, but again she painstakingly combed through each page. As her desperate search continued, the throbbing ache between her shoulders grew as the enchantment began to fade, and the nerves began to re-establish their connections.

At this rate, the spell would completely dissipate in a matter of hours. _She had to find some kind of band aid to hold the spell together until the next full moon._ But the pages were offering her no advice – they only told her over and over that it had to be performed under the light of a full moon.

Had the books not been so fragile, Venice would have thrown them at the wall. Tears of frustration began to well in her eyes, but she hastily wiped them away. She didn’t have time to waste crying. She also didn’t have the time to wait for a bloody full moon.

Already the sensations were spasmodically flaring through her body, and she could _feel_  her wings begin to take form again in this plane. The only thing she could compare it to is a phantom limb. They were still a way off from physically taking shape, but it would probably happen before dark.

It was time to take a break, she decided. She got up from her position in the middle of her bedroom floor and carefully stepped between books and loose pages as she made her way out and into the kitchen. The sound of her bare feet stepping across the tiles echoed through the empty house.

She grabbed a glass and riffled through the fridge, looking for any spare cans of cola. Hidden behind a jar of pickles stood the very last one, and she smiled at the sight of it. She was taking the small victories where ever she could get them.

Before she could take her first sip, another sensation flared through her so strongly that she had to pause and lean on the counter. Venice couldn’t remember her wings returning in such an abrupt manner. Usually the sensations would come and go almost like the tide, but this time there were crashing over her like waves against a cliff.

She was trying to recompose herself when there was a knock on the door.

“Kennedy, I told you I’m to sick to see you!” she yelled at the door, tucking some loose strands of hair behind her ear. The knocking persisted, and she groaned.

She allowed herself to dip into the channel of minds that surrounded her, trying to listen in on who ever was outside. Venice had been expecting one of her friends to come over like they usually did, but the thoughts outside had a masculine tone to them. She was also picking up two different minds.

Shit.

Had someone found her?

Venice’s first reaction was to just let them get bored and leave, but she had already given away that she was inside by yelling at the door. _Stupid, stupid, stupid,_ she cursed at herself.  They knocked again, a little louder. Venice started to pace around the room. What was she going to do? She had to open the door.

She had to open the door, but then what? They could force their way in… She had to scare them away.

“I’m calling the cops!” She yelled again as they started to knock for the fourth time. A muffled voice replied to her threat.

“Miss Matthews I wouldn’t advise that,” they warned. Why did they sound familiar?

“Venice?” they asked again after she didn’t reply. She definitely knew that voice from somewhere.

Carefully, she twisted the door handle and opened the door just enough to fit her body into the space. Instead of a pair of agents or thugs like she had expected, she was faced with some kid no older than herself, and a man adorning a perfectly tailored suit, topped off by the signature glasses.

She knew why she recognised the voice now. It had been playing through the TV system ever since she was a little girl. The utter disbelief that he was standing at her front door was written all over her features. 

“Tony Stark?”

 

 


	3. Breaking Bones to Build Bridges

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! This chapter was a little more fun to write, but a heads up that the limited third person pov does jump around a little. I tried to make the transitions clear, and I was torn about writing it like this since it's really not a great thing to do, but I felt that it was the best way to capture what was going on for everyone in this chapter. It was a kind of important moment for the trio, and I had so much I wanted to include from the three different perspectives. So just bare with it!

“Yeah that’s me,” Tony replied. “Now please tell me that your threat to call the cops was just teenage girl theatrics and they aren’t actually coming?” He stared her down, unimpressed that he had been threatened so.

Venice swallowed and shook her head. “I didn’t call them,” she muttered, opening the door to let the two in. Tony gladly walked in oozing with an easy confidence, and the boy followed just a little behind him, looking a little on edge. He stuck his hand out as he passed Venice. “I’m Peter, by the way.” He said, and Venice took it reluctantly.

Physical contact always amplified her ability to listen in on people’s thoughts, to the point where she could almost see through their eyes in current time. It was like a direct live stream of everything from their brain to hers, and it was a lot harder to stop from happening. Venice had gotten used to it over the years, and tried to keep the contact brief – or even wear gloves if it was a social gathering of her father’s.

The handshake with ‘Peter’ caught her completely off guard. Instead of a moment of seeing through their eyes, she was left gasping as suddenly everything over whelmed her. The lights grew twice as bright, but she could see everything so much clearer at the same time. Tiny background noises sounded like a symphony surrounding her, blaring into her ears. Were those drums, or the sound of her own heart through the boy’s ears? It was like being dragged into a whole new world, where she was more aware of everything that was around her. She didn’t like it.

She ripped her hand away, perhaps a little too quickly, but she didn’t care. The sensory overload was too much. How did he deal with it every day? It had been so overwhelming for just those two seconds.

“Venice,” she introduced herself with a gasp, blinking her eyes to focus back into her own reality.

* * *

Peter looked at her a strangely, a little hurt that she had pulled away from him so quickly. His Spidey-senses had prickled slightly at her hand, but he assumed that was just because he was wary of her anyway. He couldn’t understand what he had done to offend her already… all he had done was introduce himself.

He wisely kept his mouth shut about it, and simply followed behind her as they caught up with Tony inside. His mentor was silently drinking in the living area they found themselves in, not saying a word but carefully looking for any insight into her personal life.

“Is your father around?” Tony asked casually, walking around to take a closer look at the pictures on the mantle piece.

Peter noticed Venice hesitate before she replied. “He’s on a charity trip at the moment. Do you want to take a seat?” Her tone implied that she didn’t appreciate Tony snooping around her home. _Well, at least we can ditch the façade of the charity now,_ Peter thought with a hint of relief.

“Of course, thank you,” Tony responded for the both of them, and Peter moved to join him on one of the couches.

It rather reminded him of the day that he had arrived home to find May and Tony sitting on _his_ couch.

Peter kept his eyes on Venice as she sat down opposite them, training his focus on trying to pick up anything sketchy about her. But so far, other than the hand shake, Peter had felt shit all that told him that this girl was a threat. For some reason, that bothered him. He had it made up in his mind that she shouldn’t be trusted, but so far there was no evidence to support that.

Venice was also keeping a careful eye on the two surprise guests. She freely kept her mind open to theirs, listening in on exactly what they were thinking about. It felt good to finally let her powers free, and not have to keep a small part of her focused on blocking out the thoughts.

They were here because of the video of the incident. There was something that Peter was hiding… She could hear him trying to figure out if she was a threat, but not in the conventional sense of keeping an eye out for weapons and such. No, it was as if he was trying to tap into something else on a different level.

_He was enhanced too._

The realisation made her instinctively open her mouth to say something. It all made sense now, why the handshake had shocked her so much. Enhanced senses were a part of his powers… Venice desperately wanted to probe around even further into his mind to figure out exactly who he was, but that was dangerous – it was too easy to get lost in someone’s memories – and not to mention rude.

Venice was just starting to tune into Stark’s thoughts when another wave of sensation crashed over her, setting the ‘nerves’ of her wings on fire. For a moment she forgot that she had company, and she bought her hands to her face and closed her eyes as she rode out the pain and the nausea. _Why was it hitting her so hard this time?_

Just breathe, she told herself.

“Venice, are you okay?” Tony asked, sounding genuinely concerned. Venice nodded quickly before slowly straightening up again. It had only lasted for a less than a minute.

“I’m fine. What can I do for you guys?” she asked in a tired voice.

* * *

“I think you can guess what we are here about,” Tony responded, getting straight to the point. Peter looked at Venice expectantly, trying to gauge her reaction.

To his surprise, she kept a straight face. “Right the security footage,” she started, “If you’re here to get tell me off, I wouldn’t bother. Didn’t you see on the news today? The guy woke up. The doctors are calling it a miraculous recovery. He’ll be fine.” She sounded bitter about that, Peter noted. It was also news to him that Nathan had woken up and was well.

“We weren’t aware of that, but it is good news,” Tony commented.

Venice snorted, and Peter widened his eyes at her boldness. “Yeah, well you wouldn’t be saying that if you knew what type of person he was.” She muttered.

“We do know,” Peter interjected.

“But his recovery means is that the witch hunt for you will be slightly less heated,” Tony continued.

“Well you guys are here, so clearly not.” She retorted.

Peter was beyond disbelief at how this conversation was going. When he had met Tony, it had been one of the greatest days of his life. The presence of his mentor then had nearly blown him off his feet, and he would never have dreamed of talking to Mr Stark in such a manner.

It just increased his subconscious dislike and suspicion of Venice even more.

“That we are, so let’s talk about a few things. Starting with the wings that you didn’t have, then you had, and now you don’t again. Tell me, how does that work exactly?” Tony asked, leaning forward to listen to what Venice had to say.

She shifted rather uncomfortably under the question, and Peter narrowed his eyes. “Shouldn’t that be for me to worry about?” she said quietly.

“Count me as curious, in the name of science,” Tony urged gently. She chuckled.

“See that doesn’t mean anything, because it’s not science that does it. I utilise ancient crafts to hide them,” she explained.

“So magic,” Tony simplified.

Venice sighed. “Yeah, I guess you could say so.”

Peter raised his eye brows. This was starting to get interesting. “Are you a witch?” he asked.

She scoffed in return. “God no. I just borrow from their practices occasionally.”

 “Still counts,” he replied. “How big are they?” he asked, getting more involved in the conversation. Venice was the first person he had met to have biological wings, and not pieces of tech like Sam and Toomes. He couldn’t resist probing a little more.

“I don’t know. They won’t stop maturing until I do. But at the moment, I think they’re around twenty feet.” She shrugged.

Peter looked at her in admiration, but Venice found herself having to reign in bitter jealously. Why should he be jealous of her? He could hide in plain sight without compromising anything. Venice longed for that kind of luxury.

“How about how you broke that guy’s back without touching him?” Tony asked, moving the conversation along.

“Biokinesis,” She replied bluntly.

“So you can heal people?” she nodded reluctantly. “But you used it to hurt someone?” Peter asked in an alarmed voice. Venice cringed, but he didn’t care. “How could you do that? If you can manipulate cells, you could be helping so many people out there… You could save so many lives!” he ranted.

“Peter!” Tony silenced him, looking cautiously over at Venice. There was a glint of fury in her eyes, but she was surprisingly keeping the rest of her face void of any emotion. The air in the room was suddenly lacking as the trio sat in silence – Tony looking at Venice, Venice glaring at Peter, and Peter looking between two of them.

Had someone struck a match, the room could have been set alight from the tension.

“It was you, wasn’t it?” Tony realised. “You healed Nathan.”

Venice gave him a small smile, but it faded quickly as she spoke. “Yeah, I did. See, my father is a doctor, and he swore an oath to never harm another human being. He then made me also swear it to _him._ So I went back to that hospital, and I put that asshole back together, even though he didn’t deserve it.” She said coldly. “I’ve saved enough people to fill Times Square.” She gave Peter a pointed look.

Pete flushed shamefully as he realised what he had said. He’d been wrong to judge Venice so quickly. The was tension radiating off Tony, and he knew that he had screwed up. Again.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t–”

“Don’t even worry,” Venice said dismissively. The accusations hurt more than she was willing to admit, but at the moment she still had the upper hand. They didn’t know about the telepathy yet.

“I want to see this,” Tony decided. Venice eyed him off cautiously.

“What do you want to see?” she asked carefully. Tony held his arm out with a sly grin, but Venice still didn’t understand. She listened to his thoughts play out, and her eyes widened with realisation.

“Go on,” he urged.

“I am not breaking your arm, I won’t do it. I’m not hurting you,” she said defiantly, shaking her head. She saw Peter open his mouth to say something, but Stark cut him off.

“If you’re telling the truth, you’ll be able to heal it right back up. Trust me, I’ve had a lot worse,” he argued. Why was he being so persistent with this? She listened more carefully to his thoughts, and she started to pick up whispers in the back of his mind about a friend. Someone who was very important to him. A friend that he’d do anything for, a friend that she might be able to help. The hope in those small thoughts told Venice that Stark wouldn’t give up on her.

She didn’t blame him either, she would be just as insistent if she were in his position.

She did some quick maths in her brain. If she made a clean break, and set his arm, she could probably manage to heal it in under a minute. The whole ordeal would take less than five.

Okay, she could do this.

“I hope you realise how much I hate doing this. Breaking my promise,” she told him, and he nodded. There was something understanding and calming in his eyes, and she couldn’t help but trust him.

“Are you serious?” Peter whispered to him, but Tony silenced him with a pointed look. Venice took a deep breath.

“Okay. Sit on the floor for me, I don’t want you falling over.” She instructed. Tony obeyed, lowering himself down between the couch and the coffee table. She could hear Peter thinking very clearly how crazy this was, and she had to agree with him.

* * *

Peter couldn’t believe what was unfolding before him. Tony held his arm out again for Venice to focus on, and she leaned forward from where she sat on the couch. Peter’s heart was thudding away inside of his chest. “Wait!” Both of their heads snapped his way as he butted in.

Quickly he undid his belt and slid it out from his pant loops and handed it to Mr Stark. “Good thinking kid,” his mentor replied with an approving nod. Tony folded it in half before putting it between his teeth, and re-braced himself for what Venice was about to do.

Peter watched on helplessly as Venice refocused herself. His Spidey-senses were starting to spike, the hairs on the back on his neck raising in alarm. An awful feeling was rising in his throat, but Pete swallowed in down. They were safe, weren’t they?

He watched Venice stare intently at Tony’s arm. There was an incredible intensity in her green eyes, her jaw taunt as she concentrated. A couple of strands of dark hair had fallen down in her face, but she didn’t move to tuck them away.

Moments later, a deep crack echoed through the house.

He snapped his head to see Mr Stark’s arm, now bent at an angle it definitely should not be. The billionaire’s face was screwed up in pain, eyes closed and breathing heavily through his nose. He let out a stifled moan, and Peter watched his face turn several shades whiter. It was hard not to gag at the sight.

Using his good arm, Tony removed the belt from his mouth. “Yeah, that’s broken alright,” he groaned, trying to blink away the pain. Venice leapt down from her seat and immediately moved for his arm. “I need to set it in order to heal it faster,” she muttered. Peter watched on in awe as she kept an emotionless face the whole time, in a business like mode the whole time.

She carefully took Tony’s arm and laid it on the coffee table, gently but firmly pushing the two halves of his fore arm until they were almost aligned again. She looked as if she had done this before, Peter noted.

Once she was satisfied, she sat back and began to focus on his arm again. Already it was turning black and blue, and had begun to swell. The alignment hadn’t been perfect, but beneath the skin, Peter could _see_ the bones shifting the final fraction back into place. The relief in Tony’s face was evident as she began to heal it, his short breaths becomes longer and deeper. The colour was returning to his face, and his features started to relax.

It was cut short as Venice stifled a scream.

She collapsed forward onto the table beside Tony’s arm, the jolt sending spiking pain up his partially- healed arm. Venice’s body was trembling, and Peter instinctively moved forward to help her. She opened her eyes just in time to see him near her.

“No,” she groaned, “stay back.”

He did as she asked, turning to Tony instead. His mentor’s eyes were on Venice, panic written all over his face as he tried to get her attention. “Venice?”

Peter watched her take shaky breath after shaky breath, and he could hear her heart pounding. He was about to reach forward again when something caught his eye.

The air around her began to shimmer slightly in several places, light refracting as though the air was made of glass. From within all the sporadic fractures that hung around her, Peter could see _something dark_ emerging. A shadow spilling out from between the shards, from another realm. He watched on in horror as she supressed another scream into the table, and he felt desperate to do something for her. Any previous feelings of suspicion or jealousy were immediately brushed to the side. The terror for Venice drowned out anything else.

Then, without warning, the shadows retracted and the air returned to normal within a matter of moments. Venice’s short gasps turned to deep heaves, and gradually back to something semi-regular. She eased herself back up, looking at peace for a moment before she remembered the people with her.

“Oh shit, Tony,” she murmured, and she turned her gaze back to his arm. Everyone was silent for another half a minute as Venice worked, both from fear of what had just happened, and not wanting to break her concentration. 

“There,” she breathed, “The break is gone. I noticed that there was something foreign in your arm, but I guessed that it was something to do with Iron Man, so I left them there. I also noticed that you have a lot of scar tissue in different areas from old injuries, I could get rid of that another time if you like,” She offered, and Tony looked impressed.

“That’s amazing that you picked all of that up. Hey, what happened to you there?” he asked, the lines of his face filled with worry. If the girl had issues, then he had to help her, or find someone that could. Helping and protecting people was the one thing he could try to do, even if he fucked it up most of the time.

It was one of the reasons that he had designed the Iron Spider suit for Pete. He knew that something huge was coming, and he had known it ever since New York. He had to make sure that the kid would be safe. He wouldn’t be able to bare it if anything were to happen to Peter because of Tony’s encouragement…

“It was nothing,” Venice tried, but under the gaze of the other two she started to explain. “It’s the cloak that’s hiding my wings. The ritual has to be performed under very specific conditions, and after I broke through it at the gas station, I had to redo it. Obviously, I didn’t have the right environment, so it’s not working. I won’t go into it, but normally the wearing off isn’t this painful. I’m guessing it’s because I botched the spell,” she muttered.

Tony leant forward, interested to know more. “No, tell us. We want to hear it.” He urged.

Out of the corner of his eye, Tony saw Pete nod in agreement. He was glad the kid was warming up to the girl a little. He had noticed that Peter wasn’t her biggest fan already, probably because of all the bad press. Hopefully they would start to bond, because Tony was very intrigued by Venice. He hoped that she would consider coming back to the compound for a little while… Not only was she potential Avenger material from what he had seen, but he hated how she had to hide. Even if she did say that the spell wasn’t usually this bad, she shouldn’t have to be ashamed and give up who she was. Venice would have a safe place at the Avengers compound.

He hadn’t uttered a word of this aloud, but Venice’s wandering gaze suddenly whipped around to focus on him. Tony looked back at her in confusion, but within the moment the girl had collected herself again.

“I’m sure you guys have heard of astral bodies. You know, like your spirit? The spell I use hides my physical wings by forcing them to merge with my astral ones. That way, they are still connected, but no one can see or feel them, including myself. After about a month, the enchantment wears off and I have to reset it. That is what is happening now – the faulty spell is wearing off nastily, and instead of just ‘appearing’ again, my wings are just briefly poking into this plane for a few moments at a time,” She explained, sub consciously rubbing at her shoulders.

The fact that what she was saying was possible blew Tony’s mind. His entire life he had grown up with science and technology, been taught that these were the only true things in this world.

But then, why shouldn’t he have expected magick to be real? After all, he had seen all sorts since the Avengers initiative had been launched – men that turn into green rage monsters, Norse gods, aliens, guys that can shrink and grow on a dime, and let’s not forget the girl who could screw with minds and move things with her own mind.

Sure, science had a little to do with some of those things, but not all.

There are just some things that science cannot always explain.

“I don’t expect you to believe me,” Venice murmured when he didn’t reply immediately.

“No, no it’s not that. It’s just a new concept. Tell me, what does this spell involve?” he asked.

“That’s really just my business.”

“You don’t like, sacrifice bunnies or anything, do you?” Pete asked, sounding slightly worried.

Venice turned to him in disgust. “God, no. Who do you think I am?”

Tony heard Pete mutter something under his breath that he couldn’t quite catch, but judging by the look on Venice’s face, she had. He didn’t quite understand how she had heard from over on the other couch and he hadn’t… Maybe he was starting to get older. _Great, that’s just fantastic,_ he grumbled inwardly.

Venice stood suddenly, grabbing the attention of both of the boys. “Well, it was an honour meeting you Iron Man, and you Spider-Man. If that’s all you wanted, I have–”

It was Peter’s turn to leap up from his seat, and he did so with an inhuman speed.

“What, uh, what did you just, how, what did you just call me?” Peter spluttered, and Tony rose slowly to stand beside him, and joined Pete in looking at Venice questioningly.

They watched as all the blood drained from her cheeks.

“Oh fuck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is a chapter even mine if I don't finish it with two words of dialog??????? bahahaha oops


	4. Compound Bound

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmmmm loved writing some of this and other bits were a drag, there’s a bit of dialog be warned... kinda a slow chap but it’s winding up for much bigger things get keen lads

“Tell me, when was it going to cross your mind to tell us about the telepathy, huh? Is there anything else we should know?” Tony demanded. He didn’t sound as if he was very impressed that Venice had left out such a detail.

“It’s kind of a hard thing to bring up, don’t you think? What was I supposed to say? ‘Oh yeah, by the way guys, I heard you thinking how convenient it was that my father was away when you walked in, why’s that?’” Venice rambled, gesturing wildly with her hands as she went. She could see Peter gaping a little at her outburst, but she was beyond caring.

Tony bought his hand to his face in defeat. “Is there anything else we should know?” he repeated.

“No,” she replied honestly, a little more calmly now.

_Oh my god, she’s knows everything I’ve been thinking about. This is so bad. Wait, she can probably hear me now too. Is it possible to think about nothing? I don’t this it is. Maybe if I think about calculus she’ll get bored and leave my head alone… Or I could just tell her to get out with my mind? Venice…_

Peter’s inner ramblings made Venice roll her eyes. “Peter,” she replied to his thoughts, “if you want me to stop reading your thoughts you just have to ask. It’s not hard.” She crossed her arms.

“It’s a weird thing to just ask,” he replied quietly, looking a little shocked that Venice had in fact read his mind. She knew that he was still reeling over her telepathy. She _didn’t_ have to listen to his thoughts to figure that one out – it was written as clear as day all over his face.  

“I’m not listening anymore, so you can stop thinking about calculus.” She laughed a little, and Tony looked at the boy like he was crazy. “I think the best way to put it is that for me, it’s like tuning into a radio channel. I can listen to the channel of thoughts, or I can distance myself from it. I normally choose not to listen in on people’s thoughts. You don’t always hear the nicest things,” Venice explained, trying to comfort Peter and Tony a little. She was referring of course to Nathan when she spoke of listening to horrible thoughts. Peter however must have thought she was talking about him, because he flinched a little.

He had thought some kind of rude things, but his opinion meant very little to Venice, so she hadn’t cared that much.

“So, why would you listen to our thoughts when you don’t like to?” Peter asked.

“Wouldn’t you if Tony Stark and some random teenager turned up at your door?” She raised her eye brows.

“Fair enough.” He nodded. “So, you really have stopped? It’s just like a switch?” he asked carefully.

“Yes, I’ve stopped Peter. I’m practiced enough that it basically is a switch, but sometimes, if the thoughts are loud and strong enough, they break through for a few moments,” she explained.

He seemed satisfied with that.

“I’m going to go ahead and guess that you already know about my offer for you to come to the compound then,” Tony said, and Peter’s jaw dropped again as he looked at his mentor.

Venice considered finding a big rubber band to help keep his mouth closed.

“Yeah,” she confessed. She knew exactly what his offer entailed, and it was a tremendous turn of events. “I do appreciate what you are offering, even after I broke your arm,” she started to decline politely, but her words were cut short as the effects of the spell wearing off took a hold of her again.

She could feel each _cell_ trying to fight its way back from the astral plane. The pain bought Venice to her knees, nerve cells stringing together, only to be pulled apart again. It repeated over and over as her wings desperately trying to hold together, but the remnants of the botched spell worked even harder to keep them from materialising.

Her breath was completely knocked from her as it continued on even longer than last time, and no matter how many deep breaths she tried to take, not enough oxygen seemed to reach her brain. All  her defences were down, and the terrified thoughts of Tony and Peter were screaming in her mind. Or maybe they were actually yelling at her? She couldn’t tell.

Venice barely registered hands grabbing her shoulders, her name being repeated over and over again. She wanted to tell them to let go, but the pain was all consuming. Not only was it lasting longer than last time, but even more of her wings were trying to break through.

It might have been the pain, or maybe the lack of oxygen, that was causing her vision to blur. She could make out the blobs on the ground in front of her. Were those her hands? And that noise… Who was screaming?

Oh, right.

That was her.

In one last final effort, her wings tried harder than ever to break through into this materialistic plane. Venice’s eyes started to roll as darkness crept in from her peripheral, threatening to take her away. _No,_ she whispered internally, fighting to hang on to consciousness. She couldn’t pass out in front of her guests…

The spell fought back with just as much ferocity, and finally forced her wings back into the astral plane.

Venice was left panting on the floor of her living room, Tony and Peter fearfully watching over her, unsure as to if she was okay. Slowly, as soon as she could focus on the floor in front of her, she rocked back so that she was propped up on her balls of her feet. She rested her hands on her thighs in a feeble attempt to hide the tremble that wracked her whole body.

“Jesus kid,” Tony muttered under his breath. Venice didn’t say a word, and Peter’s eyes were full of more worry than she thought could be possible. “There’s no way you’re staying here alone,” Tony continued, and this time she didn’t protest.

“I just need to grab a few things,” she said quietly as she raked a hand through her tangled hair.

“Peter will help you. I’m going to go tell Happy the plan and make a few calls,” Tony got up and left for the front door, leaving the two teenagers together on the floor.

“Who’s Happy?” Venice broke the silence.

“Mr Stark’s head of security.” Peter replied in a distant voice. Venice opened her mouth to say something else, but Pete beat her to it. “Don’t worry about who he’s going to call. It’s probably just Pepper.”

She breathed a sigh of relief.

Her body was starting to feel more like her own again, so she rose to her feet, Peter standing too. She started to lead the way to her room when she let out a small laugh.

“Man, my father would freak out if he knew that I had talked to Tony Stark and Spider-Man,” she chuckled.

“Is that a good or a bad thing?”

“Well, he’s a huge fan of you,” she started, “but not so much Stark. He’s had to deal with too much collateral damage from both Stark Industries and Iron Man.”

“The injured civilians,” Peter realised.

“And the dead ones too,” she pointed out. “But I value his hero side over the damages. There’s only so much you can do when aliens invade the most populated city in America, right?”

* * *

Peter’s eyes widened as Venice opened the door to her room.

It was a pretty cool bedroom, he thought. The bed held more pillows than could possibly be necessary for one person, but at the same time it looked incredibly inviting to jump onto. There was a large desk with a laptop and an array of stationary, from blank notepads to textbooks. The wall space behind the desk was littered with different artworks. The collection included water-colour works, charcoal and pencil sketches. Peter wasn’t sure that he could tell exactly what was in each piece, but he admired them all the same.

On the far wall was a huge window, overlooking a back garden that would be a little kid’s dream. _A window that size would be a lot easier to sneak out of,_ he thought. It filled the room with a beautiful natural light, lifting the mood. The remaining wall that surrounded the window was made entirely out of book shelves. Nearly half of them were empty, and it was obvious by the mess covering the floor as to where the books had gone.

Venice winced beside him at the scattered books, but he ignored it as he spotted something else.

“No way, you have a record player? That’s so cool!” He exclaimed, moving forward to check it out.

“Wait! Don’t tread on the–”

He was already making his way across the room, swinging by his fingertips across the room. As if he would dare tread on her books. Venice was carefully tiptoeing over as he dropped from the ceiling to admire the old player.

“Nice,” he breathed as he traced its lines, his fingers just millimetres away from touching it.

“I haven’t used in ages,” Venice admitted.

“Why not?” he asked curiously. Before May’s old record player broke, the pair had played music from it nearly constantly, just quietly enough as to not disturb the neighbours. There was something more authentic about music on vinyl.

“It was sort of a thing between my mother and I. When she bailed, I was so close to throwing it out. Don’t know why I didn’t,” she responded. There was something off about her voice, Peter noticed. Like she was trying to distance herself from a memory.

“Oh. What did you play?” he asked, looking around for any records. There wasn’t a single one in sight.

“Mostly classical music. She was a sucker for that.”

“You should try the music that my aunt has,” Pete suggested. “It’s mostly old stuff, but there are some pretty good songs in there,” he shrugged.

“Yeah,” she murmured.

“So, what did you want to grab before we go?”

* * *

Venice and Peter met Tony out by the car, each carrying a bag. Venice didn’t know exactly how long she was going to be at the compound, but she figured that she could always come back to grab more clothes. For that reason, most of what she had brought were old grimoires and texts, and of course other necessities like her phone and her laptop. As if she would go anywhere without being able to watch Netflix. She was only halfway through re-watching Brooklyn Nine-Nine for the fourth time.

She had sent Peter out before she gathered the items she would need to cast another spell. If she was still with the Avengers by the next full moon, she was going to be ready. There was no way that Venice was going to miss it.

Tony eyed off the two teenagers. “Is that all?” he asked, looking a little confused.

“I didn’t want to keep you waiting,” she admitted.

“Nonsense. But don’t worry, I’ll have guys come over to get the rest as you need it,” he told her. She didn’t know if she was too keen on strangers going through her things, but she fight that battle another day. For now, Venice’s main priority was getting somewhere safe before the spell temporarily broke again.

She had a very bad feeling about it, but she kept her mouth shut so she didn’t worry the others.

Tony opened up the door for Venice before slipping into his spot in shot gun. Peter took the other back seat, and Happy barely gave him a moment to do up his seatbelt before the car took off.

After the initial introductions made between Venice and Happy, the first ten minutes of the ride were unbearably quiet.

Venice was the first to break the silence. “I don’t want to sound rude, but how long will the trip be to the compound?” She asked.

“Just under two hours, wouldn’t you say Hap?” Tony replied. Happy confirmed his boss’s estimations.

“That’s too long,” Venice murmured to herself, and Peter looked at her with concern. “Is there no way to get there quicker?”

“What’s the rush?” Tony replied to her question with his own.

“It’s just that I think it’s going to get very squishy for Peter and I back here before our two hours is up. You’re not allergic to birds, right?” she asked Peter.

“No,” he shook his head. He probably would have laughed any other time, but the thought of the girl beside him going through a complete transformation scared him a little. The last time was almost seizure like, and only half of the wings were visible.

“I see,” Tony said, a little lost in thought. “F.R.I.D.A.Y., contact Rhodey and tell him to send a jet to our closest air strip. Change our course to meet it there.” He ordered at no one.

Peter saw Venice’s eyes widen as the ‘car’ replied. “Contacting Rhodes boss. Rerouting course to nearest airstrip.” F.R.I.D.A.Y. responded. Peter didn’t mind Mr Stark’s personal AI, but of course he had a soft spot for Karen.

He just thought that she just a little cooler, especially since Ned had helped him to reprogram some ‘Gen Z terminology’ into her speech patterns.

It was a lot more fun when Karen referenced vines and movies during patrol.

“We will arrive at the airstrip in thirteen minutes boss,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. continued, “from there it is a seven-minute trip on the jet to the Avengers Facility. Miss Potts is preparing for your arrival.”

“Perfect, thank you F.R.I.D.A.Y.,” Mr Stark dismissed her. Peter looked over at Venice, who was looked a little more relaxed.

But still tense.

Without a word, she reached for her backpack and began to rifle through it. Pete peered over to have a look at what she was doing, when she revealed one of the old books that had been on her bedroom floor. It was one of the biggest ones he had seen out of the many she had.

She opened it up and began scanning down each page, flipping through them at a record speed. He tried to keep up with her, but was baffled when he actually tried to read any of the words.

“You can read that?” he exclaimed, staring at the foreign scribbles that he guessed were supposed to be words. What ever it was, it definitely wasn’t the English alphabet.

“Yeah, it’s surprisingly easy to read Futhark. All of the spelling rules make sense,” she replied, pre-occupied with the book in her hands. For a moment, it was almost like talking with MJ.

Pete cringed as he remembered what had happened earlier that day at school, but he pushed that to the back of his mind.

“Fu-what?”

“It’s an old script. You know, like runes?” Peter nodded as if he knew what she was talking about.

“What are you looking for then?” he asked again.

“For a way to strip away the spell quickly,” she explained. “Normally it’s a seamless transition, but not this time. I got most of my information from this book, so I’m guessing there’s a way to reverse it in here too,” Her fingertips gently brushed down each page as she scanned.

Venice had arrived at a page covered in different symbols when she paused, and begun to tap her finger on the page. Peter tried to get a read on her, but he couldn’t find anything in her thoughtful frown to suggest if she had found something useful.

“I think I’ve got it,” she announced, and Tony twisted around in his seat to face the pair behind him.

“I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before, I mean it’s basic lore,” she went on, still sounding distracted.

“What do you need?” Tony asked her.

“I’ve already got what I need.” She replied. “But I’ll have to wait until we get to the airstrip. It’s a bit to cramped in here to do it.”

“We’re only four minutes out,” Happy supplied.

“But you can do it in two, can’t you?” Mr Stark poked, and Happy smiled.

“Easily.”

The car was put through its paces as Happy screamed it down the roads. They had left the city behind not too long ago, and the number of people and houses were starting to thin out as they neared the private airstrip F.R.I.D.A.Y.  had sent them to. Peter grinned as he watched the blur of colours out of the window, loving the new speeds that they were travelling at.

He also couldn’t wait to get inside one of Mr Stark’s jets again.

It would be like, the third plane he’s ever been on. The last one was so flash as well.

Happy surpassed Tony’s expectations and got them there in a minute and a half. Tony left straight away to talk to the owner, who was staring mightily confused at the Avenger’s jet that was resting on his strip, with no pilot on board. Happy gratefully went to join him after Peter insisted that he was alright to carry the bags himself.

“So, what do you have to do to break the spell?” Pete asked her, coming around the car to stand with her outside.

“I have to break the sigil that binds it together,” she explained, lifting her shirt to expose her hip.

Instead of smooth skin, an area the size of Peter’s palm was heavily scarred. It was like a stamp, or a brand on her body. It was made entirely out of shapes and lines, and it reminded Peter of something that might be found in a temple somewhere.

Venice dug around in her bag and brought out a small pocket knife. With practiced ease, she flicked out the blade, looking at home with it in her hand. Peter watched on with confusion until she brought it near the scar on her hip. He reached out and grabbed her wrist before she could get any closer to her skin with the blade.

“What are you doing?” He hissed, holding her wrist firmly.

Venice looked at him incredulously. “I told you, I have to break the sigil.”

“I can’t let you hurt yourself! Can’t you, I don’t know, heal it away, or just wait until your wings come back like normal?”

“That’s not how it works, I have to physically break it before I can ‘heal it away’,” she mocked. “I didn’t tell Stark in the car because it’s stupid to cause unnecessary worry, but I don’t know if I’ll last long enough for my wings to materialise. Even if I could, I’m not sure if they would come back in one piece because of how fucked up the spell is. I _have_ to do this,” Venice snatched her hand back with a surprising strength.

“Surely Mr Stark could…” he tried again.

“Tony doesn’t know anything when it comes to this sort of stuff. Now for God’s sake, just let me do this quickly before they come back over.” Her tone stopped Peter from saying anything else. He just stood there awkwardly as Venice brought the knife once again closer to her hip, looking around to make sure no one spotted what she was doing.

Venice bit her lip as the blade dug into her skin. With quick precision, she dug it across one of the arterial lines of the sigil, effectively stopping the flow of magick and releasing her from the spell. Peter had looked away as soon as she pressed the metal to her skin, but he turned back to face her as she breathed a sigh of relief. Besides a little left over blood that had trickled down her hip, there was no evidence that there was ever an injury. A clean line of perfect skin bisected through several of the old scars, and Peter guessed that was where she had ‘broken the sigil’, and then healed it.

“Did it work?” he asked quietly.

Venice closed her eyes and nodded.

 

 

 

 

 

 


	5. Adolescent Angst

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow this one is a little longer than the others, but I wanted to fit so much into this one chapter so that in the next one we can get start to move onto the next phase ;)

Venice was _euphoric_ as the spell lifted.

Compared the tear wrenching pain that she had experienced over the past few hours, the transition back to wholeness was almost soothing. Every fibre materialised and bonded just as it should, no spell to hold them apart. With every second that passed, it was like this unreachable itch was finally being scratched – Venice was complete again.

She arched her wings up and out, stretching them as far as she could. It was an amazing feeling, like stretching after an especially long nap. She couldn’t help but grin gleefully and stretch her arms out with them, tipping her head back to look up at the sky.

 

 

Peter was speechless. He had seen her wings in the security footage, but it could never have prepared him for the sight before him. As Venice spread them, he thought they were closer to twenty-five feet rather than the twenty feet she had told him before.

The feathers were a deep black in colour, laced with hints of silver. It reminded him of looking into the night sky outside of the city. The child within him desperately wanted to reach out to stroke them, to see if they felt as sleek as they looked.

He had a suspicion, that if he did try to touch them, that Venice would punch him. She looked so _powerful_ standing there with her wings splayed out. He almost felt nervous… which was ridiculous. He was Spider-Man… Why should he be scared of some bird-girl? He was an unofficial Avenger.

_But so was she now._

Pete told the little voice in his head to shut up… but it had a point. He couldn’t help but be a little in awe of her true form.

And afraid of the competition it presented him with.

He watched her slowly lower them down and tuck them away behind her back. They were still obviously there, but she was less intimidating now that they weren’t towering over him. He could see the pure bliss written all over her expression. There was a new spark in her eyes than hadn’t been there before.

“Man, you’ve got no idea how good this feels,” she gushed.

He opened his mouth to reply, but Tony and Happy cut him off as they came back over. Peter panicked and looked behind them, but thankfully the owner of the airstrip was no where to be seen.

“Impressive,” Tony remarked. Happy sort of stumbled along beside him, caught by surprise at the latest developments. “You know, you really shouldn’t have to hide them.” He continued.

“If I could get away with it I would,” Venice replied as she rolled her shoulders a little, re-adjusting to the new appendages behind.

“We can make that happen. We’d better get our asses onto the jet though before that charming man comes back out. I reckon it’d take a few more thousand to keep him quiet about seeing,” he paused gesturing up and down at Venice, “Nightingale here. So, grab your bags kids, it’s time to get to base camp.” He said gave Happy a slap on the shoulder before walking for the jet, not waiting for the teenagers.

“Thanks for driving us Happy,” Peter said awkwardly, grabbing Venice’s other bag and walking with her to the jet. He heard the man grumble about something behind them, but he didn’t care today.

“Nightingale?” Venice asked Peter quietly.

“It’s just a thing that he does. I’m Underroos, you’re Nightingale… You know, like the nurse and the, uh, bird?” he explained as they approached the craft. It wasn’t like the private jet that Peter had flown in last time. This one was far larger, and designed for missions. Pete felt like a kid in a candy store as he walked up the ramp. It was a seriously cool aircraft.

“Oh,” was all she could say before they were once again the focus of Tony.

“Well, I’d say buckle up, but you can stick to anything,” he said pointing at Peter, “and I don’t think that we have a harness to fit you,” he continued, pointing at Venice this time. “So, hang onto something, each other, I don’t care. I’ll be up front, if anything dramatic happens back here, you tell me straight away. Got it?” He wasn’t satisfied with their nods. “No, that’s not good enough. I need audible confirmation that you will be responsible during our seven-minute flight.”

“Yeah, we will.” They replied in unison.   

“Been reading a book on keeping teens, have you?” Venice teased.

“Maybe,” Tony replied, not showing an ounce of remorse.

The pair laughed as he disappeared to the cockpit. Peter sat the bags down near the wall, and took a seat next to a wall of parachutes. He started to look around at the space they were in, wringing his hands slightly.

Venice noticed that he was looking around everywhere, except for at her.

She respected that he had asked her not to read his mind, so she would have to figure out what was wrong the old-fashioned way. She took a few small steps forward until she was standing beside him.

“So, has Spider-Man been to the Avenger’s facility before?”

“Yeah,” he replied bluntly, and she looked down at him, daring him to elaborate. “Happy took me there after I took down the Vulture and Mr Stark offered me a spot on the team. There’s been training sessions too. ”

“Woah, I didn’t know that you were an Avenger,” she whistled.

Peter winced. “Well, not technically. I turned him down, but I mean we still work together. He still mentors me.” His voice hinted at annoyance, and Venice frowned.

Why was he being so moody now? He wasn’t still hung up over Stark choosing to also bring her to the facility, was he?

She had never been more tempted to listen into someone’s thoughts. Obviously, none of her friends knew about her powers, so she could tap into their minds whenever they refused to tell her what was wrong. Most of the time, she just did it so she could say what they wanted or needed to hear.

But Peter knew, and he didn’t want her in his head.

Venice let out a small sigh as the aircraft lifted suddenly with a juddering force. It caught her off guard and she started to stumble, but with inhuman speed, Peter lunged forward on reflex to grab her arm.

She steadied herself quickly, wings flared slightly to help her balance. Peter hadn’t let go, but was instead staring unapologetically at her wings. His deep eyes were either mesmerised or disgusted by them, Venice couldn’t tell. He kept his face blank.

“It’s been a while since I’ve flown,” she explained apologetically. Her voice seemed to snap Peter out of his trance, and he let go of her arm. She resisted the urge to rub it – his grip was stronger than she had anticipated.

“In a plane or by yourself?” he asked, a smirk playing on his lips.

 _These mood swings are going to give me whiplash._ People were far more unpredictable when you couldn’t hear what they were thinking.

“Both,” she shrugged with a small smile. “Haven’t been in a plane since these appeared, and my father doesn’t really like me flying about the neighbourhood. I used to sneak out, but one time he caught me and, well…” she trailed off, not finishing the sentence.

“And what?” he urged.

“It doesn’t matter,” She shook her head, refusing to think about that night.

“Kinda sounds like it does.”

“Forget it,” Venice mumbled, her wings sagging and drawing closer to her back.

“C’mon Venice,” he whined.

“Seriously Peter, back off!” She snapped, moving away from him. “We barely know each other, and it doesn’t take a mind reader to figure out that you don’t like me for some reason. Stop digging around for an actual reason to hate me.”

Amidst her yelling, neither of them had noticed that the plane had landed. Or that Tony was standing off to the side, quietly watching the exchange.

After Venice had finished, he stepped forward to break the tension that was starting to grow.

“Peter, why don’t you head on up and get yourself settled back into your quarters. Venice, you grab your bags, and I’ll show you where you’ll be staying.” He ordered, breaking them up. The girl snatched up her bags and marched off of the plane, leaving Peter in her wake.

“We are going to have a little chat,” Tony threatened before walking off after Venice.

 _Great._ He’d ticked off Mr Stark again because of Venice, and she’d only been around for a few hours. Every time he started to warm up to her, something went wrong and it was back to square one. He knew deep down that it may be his fault, but he wasn’t quite ready to admit it.

* * *

Tony caught up with Venice, whose dramatic exit had come to an abrupt stop outside of the facility. She was staring up at the building in awe, oblivious to Tony as joined her side. He was careful not to brush against a wing.

“Like it?” he asked.

“Do you take constructive criticism OP?” she returned his question with her own.

“Excuse me?” He asked, completely lost as to anything the teenager had just said.

“I’ll take that as a no,” she said softly to herself. “It’s impressive,” she told him.

“Right… I don’t know if I should be insulted or not. C’mon, let’s get you set up in a room. Do you need to call your father or anything?” he asked, leading her forward through the front doors.

“No, he doesn’t have a phone while he’s on trips,” she said in a distracted voice, focussed more on the massive Avenger’s emblem that they were passing.

He continued to lead her through different areas and up a level, talking all the while about what it was like to live at the facility. She also received her formal introduction to F.R.I.D.A.Y..

“I’ll have Pete give you a proper tour later,” he promised.

Peter wasn’t anywhere in sight when they got to the domestic wing, to which Tony was relieved. He was going to have to pull the kid into line. Tony wasn’t sure what had made the boy so hesitant to trust Venice, but he was going to sort it out before dinner.

He unlocked the door to quarters D-11, and gestured for Venice to lead the way in. She paused only two steps into the room, drinking in everything.

It was a standard room, one of thirty in this wing. It was fully furnished with a king-sized bed, desk, wall-mounted TV, dressers and of course there was an ensuite and walk-in wardrobe attached. There was still plenty of room for personalisation, but the room certainly wasn’t lacking anything.

Venice turned to face him, carefully manoeuvring her wings around him.

“Thanks Stark, it’s amazing.”

“Get comfortable. You don’t need anything special for your,” he didn’t finish, but instead gestured up and down at her wings. She shook her head no. “Great,” he continued, “I’ll give you a few minutes before I send Peter over to give you a tour before we start thinking about our plans. I just have to ask you something before I go. How are you at healing old injuries?”

The hope inside him had been building ever since he had learned of her biokinetic abilities. For so long there had been nothing that he could do for his best friend, but now? He might have a chance to help him, and maybe make up for the fact that he hadn’t been able to save him from falling in the first place.  

“If it has a heartbeat, I can heal it,” she said confidently. Tony’s shoulders physically slumped with relief, and he smiled to himself. This girl was just the break that he needed right now.

“Who is it?” she asked him quietly.

“Just someone else who lives here, I’ll introduce you after the tour.” He told her. He was itching to run with her to Rhodey now, but he had to be fair and give her a moment to adjust. She had to be reeling right now… It had only been a few hours since they had met. She seemed to be coping alright, but he didn’t want to push anything. Peter had taught him very quickly that teenagers can be hard to read, so he didn’t want to assume anything.

“I’m feeling fine, you know. I can do it now,” she sat her bags down by the dresser. Tony couldn’t help but admire her heart.

“Trust me, he’s not going anywhere. Give yourself a chance to catch up with all of this,” he gestured with arms to the whole facility. “Now, F.R.I.D.A.Y. should have you in the system by now, so you’ll have clearance to most things. Just ask her if you need something and no one else is around.” He instructed.

“Sure thing. Thanks again for all of this.” She said shyly.

“No problem,” He nodded and left the room, shutting the door behind him. Now it was time for conversation he was dreading… talking to a moody Peter about why he was being so moody. It was at times like these that he wished that he had Venice’s ability to read minds.

He walked only a little back down the hallway to room D-09. It opened almost straight up after he knocked, Peter looking up at him expectantly.

“Alright kid, enough bullshit. I want to know your thoughts on Venice.” He got straight to the point, inviting himself into the room and taking a seat on the bed. Peter trailed behind him, moving to sit down beside him.

“I just don’t know Mr Stark,” he started.

“Okay, keep going.” He prompted. It sounded like the kid might actually open up, which would be fantastic. Tony got worried sometimes about what went on inside that head.  

“It’s just that she has used her powers to hurt people, and she doesn’t even seem to care. I couldn’t find any remorse at all, she hated the fact that she had to help the guy. And the fact that she didn’t tell us she could read minds? She found out about Spider-Man in half an hour. She could find out anything she wants while she’s here. We don’t even know her, plus she’s got a pretty bad attitude,” he rambled.

“You don’t think that we should have bought her back?” Tony realised.

“No, I don’t think so. I don’t know, she just seems like she’s still hiding something.”

“Look, I know that you’re annoyed that she found out your secret identity, but her powers are so much better than I could have imagined. She could be a real asset to the Avengers in the future,” Tony explained. Instead of looking comforted by this, Peter seemed even more dejected.

Tony sighed. “Kid, you realise that she’s only here to help us, yeah? You’re still my protégé, no one could replace Spider-boy. I know you turned down my invitation to join the team, but it still stands. Venice isn’t filling your spot. Trust me, I wasn’t so hurt by your rejection that I had to go searching for some other enhanced rebel teenager to fill the void.”

“It’s Spider-Man,” Peter murmured.

“Seriously kid, that’s all you got from that?” he said with feigned exasperation.

“I’m not joking though. You need to get over the hormones and start to get along with Venice. For one, I’m not putting up with any ridiculous adolescent angst in this place. And secondly, she’s more important for you than you realise right now. Please just trust me on this one,” he begged, searching Pete’s face for a response.

It took Peter a moment as he let it sink in, but he spoke up again. “I trust you. And I’ll try to start trusting Venice,” he added.

“Good,” Tony slapped a hand on his shoulder. He was starting to get pretty good at this whole mentor thing he thought, the kid was actually listening to him. “Now, give the girl a quick tour and then meet me and Rhodey in the lounge.”

* * *

Venice completely ignored the first set of knocks on her door. She was going to let him stew for a few moments. She hadn’t completely forgiven him for what had gone down on the plane, and she was going to make him earnt it.

He knocked again on her door, and slowly she made her way over to open it. She made sure to lift her wings to fill the entire doorway, and make herself seem as formidable as she could.

It worked, because Peter took half a step back when she opened the door.

“I’m supposed to give you a tour?” he said unsurely, almost as if he were asking permission. Satisfied that he had been taken down a notch, Venice relaxed her wings into a regular position.

“Perfect, I’ve been dying to explore this place.” She said breezily, ignoring the heavy presence of awkwardness between them. She saw Pete relax a little with her words.

“Okay, cool. I’ll show you the gym first.”

As Peter lead her around the compound, they started to slip into a little bit of small talk about themselves. It turns out that Peter wasn’t the huge jerk that he had first come off as, and Venice almost found herself enjoying his company. Of course, she was still only unwrapping the top layers of who he was, but she was already seeing hints of humour. And a lot of nerdiness, but she didn’t mind that.

How could someone who read ancient books for hours judge someone else for fanboying over Stark’s technology?

Secretly she was loving listening to his Spider-Man tales. When she had first gotten her wings and gotten past the initial shock, she had momentarily dreamed of becoming a super-hero. What thirteen-year-old wouldn’t? He father had very quickly shot that idea down, arguing that she could do more help ‘undercover’ at the hospital. She had had no choice but to go along with what he said, and move on from the vague idea of heroism.

Peter it seemed, however, had chased down that dream of hero status (after a brief stint in the wrestling scene). He spoke with such animation about his adventures that it was impossible to not get caught up in them. Venice suspected that he didn’t have many people to talk about it with.

They had arrived at the communal kitchen when he started asking more about what she did with her powers.

“So, do you do anything with your biokinesis?” Peter asked.

“I mostly just go to the hospital with my father, trying to fix as many people as I can. It gets tiring after a few hours though,” she replied, admiring the state of the art kitchenware that were available. She was going to have a field day in here.

“So, you don’t normally go on revenge missions huh?” He sounded a little relieved.

“Well I mean sometimes people deserve it,” Pete looked at her in horror. “What? You can’t tell me that there’s this one asshole at school you wouldn’t love to get back at? So what if I gave a bitch some extra bad period cramps, she should have stopped trying to rub herself up against my boyfriend,” Venice grumbled.

Peter snorted. “You gave a girl bad cramps because she flirted with your boyfriend? That’s so petty,” he laughed to himself, and Venice couldn’t help but smile.

“Ex-boyfriend actually,” she corrected, “but yeah. C’mon, surely you’ve gotten back at someone who was a total dick to you?”

He hesitated for a moment. “Well, there’s this one guy who was a ‘total dick’, as you put it. It was kind of a coincidence, but at home-coming I stole his car as Spider-Man so I could chase down the Vulture,” He smirked, sounding rather proud.

“See!” she exclaimed. “I knew you weren’t as high and mighty as you pretended to be. It is our right as freaks to be able to use our powers for our own personal gain on occasion,” she declared, and this time Peter didn’t disagree.

“On occasion. Oh, I nearly forgot this was a tour. This is the kitchen, obviously, for everyone. The only rules are: that you clean up your mess, and if you use up anything, you have to tell F.R.I.D.A.Y. to put it on the list. You can also ask her to put anything else you want on the list too.” He explained, leading the her through a pair of automatic doors to what she guessed was the team lounge.

It was a gorgeous room. On the far left wall, there was a fully functional bar. There was plenty of socialising space, however a decent portion of the room was taken up by the couches. They were lowered slightly into the ground, made out of plush, charcoal leather. The continuous U-shape of couch centred around a large coffee table, and on the opposite wall above the fireplace sat a TV bigger than Tony Stark himself.

Venice had thought that the TV in her room was a generous size, but it was completely dwarfed by the one in this room.

Sitting down together in front of the monstrous flat screen was Tony and another man. She took a closer look at him, his dark features seemingly familiar.

 _James Rhodes,_ she realised. The famous War Machine, Iron Man’s best friend and ally.

Last she had heard, he had been seriously injured during the fight between Stark and Captain America.

It suddenly dawned on her as to who Tony needed her help with.

The men rose together upon seeing the teenagers, Rhodes a little slower than Tony. Venice could see from here the brace that was supporting him from hip to toe. She could also see the gob-smacked expression he was sporting as he looked at her.

“ _This_ is who you thought would be suitable to help Peter? She’s a teenager too Tony!” He whispered harshly at his friend, but not quietly enough to not be heard by Venice and Peter. Venice loved the fact that he was more concerned about her age than her not so subtle wings behind her.

“When you add their ages together, it’s totally fine,” Stark argued. Venice and Peter found themselves trying not to laugh at Tony’s logic as they walked over to join the two men. In all honesty, they thought that it was pretty sound.

“Oh my god,” Rhodey mumbled, giving up.

“Now that that’s sorted, introductions.” Tony began. “Venice, this is James Rhodes, aka Rhodey, aka Iron Patriot, aka War Machine which sounds a lot better. Rhodey, this is Venice Matthews, and she’s weird. Wanda-kind-of-weird.”

He looked impressed. “Wow. Nice to meet you Venice. It’s good to see you again too Pete,” he stuck his hand out for Venice, but Tony lowered it with his own. “Not advised,” he murmured, and she sent him a grateful look. Rhodes shook hands with Pete instead.

“It’s awesome to meet you too Mr Rhodes. And I have to agree with Stark, War Machine does sound cooler,” she confessed. Tony through his arms up as if to say; _See? I’m not the only one, it makes total sense._

“It’s just Rhodey,” he told her. He couldn’t help but gaze at her wings, and Venice didn’t blame him. He had enough respect not to comment on them though, or maybe he just didn’t know what to say.

 

 

“Alright Rhodey. I can see what the problem is, do you want to sit down before I start?” she asked, taking him by surprise.

“Excuse me?”

“Oh right, I should explain,” Tony stepped in. “Venice’s weird is a little different from Wanda. She can manipulate organic material with her mind, and also listen to other people’s thoughts.” He explained, simplifying it all down into just a sentence.

“You can read minds?” Rhodey looked at her with wide eyes.

“Don’t worry, I’m not reading your mind now,” she reassured him.

“She can like, turn it on and off,” Peter supplied.

“Right,” Venice continued. “And by manipulate organic matter, he means I can heal people with my mind.” She further explained to him. It took Rhodey a moment or two to catch on, but when he did, his eyes widened.

“Wait, are you suggesting…”

“Yeah Rhodey,” Tony said softly. “She can really fix your back for good.”

* * *

She had Rhodey lay down on the couch, a pillow beneath his back to properly align it. She knelt down on the ground beside him, tuning her mind into sync with his body. The feathers of her wings gathered on the floor behind her, a pool of silky velvet.

The more vital the healing was, the more that she liked to clear her mind and meditate on the matter, and really get to understand what she was trying to fix. An injury to the spinal cord was definitely one of those cases, so she took her time.

After a few minutes of settling into the right mind frame, she closed her eyes started to reach out and search for the damage. She traced his central nervous system with her mind until she reached the blockage. The scar tissue was hindering the flow of energy and messages from his brain, and she could feel them trying to push past, to no avail.

Who ever had worked on Rhodes had done a superior job as far as modern medicine goes. The vertebrae had healed up to near perfection. She could place all of her focus onto his spinal cord.

Gently, she urged the cells to strip away the scar tissue that had formed. Slowly it peeled away layer by layer, until raw nerve cells were exposed. She could feel the ends reaching out for each other, desperately trying to bridge across the gap that stopped the flow of energy. All she had to do was give it the final push and force the cells to replicate, and the connection was restored.

His spine was healed.

The last thing that she had to do was destroy the left over scar tissue that she had stripped away. Very carefully Venice tore the cells apart into matter that the body could discard of easily. It was a tricky process - she had to be very delicate about which cells she tore apart. If her mind wandered for even a moment else-where, she could destroy other healthy cells by accident.

Once she was completely satisfied that he was healed, she snapped out of her trance and back into the room with everyone else. Tony was watching his friend intensely, and Peter had his eyes on her.

Rhodey stirred not too long after Venice was finished. He let out a deep breath as he sat up on the couch.

“That was… weird,” Rhodey commented, using his hands to steady himself.

“You felt it too, the warmth?” Tony asked, edging closer to sit beside his friend. Rhodes nodded, before pausing. “Wait, what do you mean too?”

“Did it work?” Peter asked quietly as he offered Venice a hand standing up. She took it and let him pull her up from the ground.

“Yeah, there’s no more scar tissue left to interfere with his spinal cord. You can take that brace off now if you want,” Venice suggested.

“Wait, shouldn’t we run a few tests first just to make sure?” Tony interjected.

“Listen here Tony Stank,” Rhodey began, “if Venice says I can take the brace off, then I’m going to take it off. No offence to your designs, but I’m not waiting for your tests to walk freely again. Venice knows what she’s doing, right?” He looked to her for confirmation.

“Of course,” she crossed her arms.

That was all that Rhodey needed, and he slipped his hand to his hip before Tony could protest again. He slid a panel across to reveal a touch pad, and with just four taps he unlocked the brace. It opened up and away from him in a series of low whirs and hisses until it was totally clear from his front. The frame sat underneath him on the couch, like the hollow exoskeleton of a bug.

He took a deep breath in before slowly rising to his feet, ready to collapse as he had so often before.

Instead Rhodey straightened up completely, not an ounce of pain present. His face cracked up into a huge grin as he looked up at everyone, standing on his own two feet as if he had never fallen from the sky in the first place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yayyyyy Rhodey is all good and Tony is helping Pete to get over his insecurities like a good dad. Things are going to pick up in the next chapter :))


	6. Officially Unofficially on a Mission

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I'm sorry this one took a little longer! I wish I had some cool excuse but honestly I had the *worst* writers block for days, and on top of that I've been handed a couple of huge assignments for school. I originally had a lot more planned to add in this chapter, but I only got through two of them and the word count was already rising so I decided to split it in half. Please let me know what you think!

Venice had been surprised to learn that besides Tony and Peter, Rhodey was the only other Avenger living at the compound. Since the big debacle over the Accords, which the whole world had heard about, all of the others had been forced into hiding. Well, Thor and Hulk were the exceptions, but they were God-knows-where. Venice wasn’t even sure if Thor qualified to sign the Accords, being a god and all.

Now that she had apparently served her purpose of healing Rhodey, Venice wasn’t sure why Tony planned keeping her around. She didn’t consider herself exactly Avenger material, and despite the good face that Peter was putting on, she knew he agreed. Tony did realise that she would have to return home eventually to her father anyway, right?

She had been tossing all night, wondering what the plan for her _really_ was. Her mind had run wild with the possibilities, and not all of them were very pleasant. Venice had heard rumours about what happened to the ‘normal’ enhanced people when they were discovered, and the fear of those stories had driven her even harder to hide. She was almost sure that Stark didn’t want to hurt her, but it still felt odd to have more than one person know about her true identity. No matter how luxurious the bedding was, she couldn’t settle in spot long enough to sleep.

Naturally, she was already awake when F.R.I.D.A.Y. reminded her of the group meeting during breakfast that was in an hour.

Venice groaned a little as she lifted herself up and away from the bed. _Why did Tony have to make it so damn comfy?_

She softly padded around the room, readying herself to see the others again. There hadn’t been much of a chance to unpack last night, so carefully she took everything out from her two bags. Venice took the opportunity of performing the menial tasks to zone out a little, not think too much about anything. She lined up her four grimoires along one of the bare shelves, and hid her spell kit in one of the dresser drawers. Coat hangers were already hanging in the wardrobe, which she used to hang up the few clothes she had brought. They looked very lonely in the huge walk-in.

Finally, she took her make-up into the bathroom. As she ran her fingers around the rim of the sink, Venice found the enormity of her situation crashing over her. Here she was, some weird-ass teenager, temporarily moving in with what remained of the Avengers. Iron Man, War Machine and Spider-Man were just a few doors away.

She bit her lip and stared down her reflection, suddenly not liking what she saw. Not just what, but who. Venice wasn’t made of the same stuff that Peter was. His strength ran much deeper than his physical enhancements. Venice’s didn’t – there was a part of her that she didn’t even know herself, and it scared her.

She didn’t know what would happen when she got to know that part of herself.  

“Miss Matthews, the meeting commences in fifteen minutes,” F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s voice chimed through, snapping Venice out of the self-doubt that she was wallowing in. Who was she kidding, she didn’t have time to mull over how out of her depth she was.

Her best bet was to just wing it.

* * *

Peter knocked on Venice’s door, ready to take her to the breakfast that Mr Stark wanted everyone at. He figured that he should probably walk her there, since the compound was pretty big and easy to get lost in.

Pete was eager to get to the meeting. So far, they had successfully reeled in Venice and pulled her away from the media’s reaches, but now what? He had been up all night texting Ned about it, and his friend was completely blown away when Peter told him about the biokinesis. Ned also confirmed Peter’s hunch that maybe Tony would want to turn her into the team medic/stealth weapon. She would be perfect for those kinds of missions, since she could read minds to gather intel and codes, and take down the enemy without moving a muscle.

It made Peter a little jealous, but also sad… He had dreamt of going on those kinds of missions with Mr Stark, but what use would he be compared to her?

The conversation he had had with Mr Stark echoed through his mind, and he’d done his best to push aside those feelings. His mentor had almost hinted that Peter and Venice would be working together…

Venice opened the door, looking a lot less pissed off compared to the last time Peter had come knocking. He took that as a good sign.

“Are you ready for breakfast?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she replied, softly closing the door behind her. “Do you know what this is all about?”

“Not a clue,” he shrugged as they started walking. “I hope that Rhodey did the cooking though, because Mr Stark couldn’t cook a pancake to save his life.”

Venice laughed, and Pete started to feel a little more relaxed again. “I might have take over the kitchen while I’m here then,” she joked.

“You can cook?” he didn’t mean for it to come out so surprised, but it did.

“Well I love food, and my father wouldn’t allow me to eat cheap shit because he’s _such_ a doctor, so I had to learn to cook it myself,” he saw her roll her eyes in his peripheral as they rounded the corner to the kitchen.

Mr Stark and Rhodey were already there, but they didn’t notice the teenagers at first. Their bodies were tense as they leant over the bench towards each other deep in conversation. Peter was able to pick up the last words that Rhodey was saying.

“… you’re insane. They’re teenagers, and I don’t care if one of them can climb walls and the other one can do shit with her mind. I won’t let you do it.” He sounded pissed. Peter glanced over at Venice, and he knew that she was listening to what they were thinking. Her features had become  tense too, and although she was normally a master at concealing her emotions, Peter could see something in her eyes…

Was it fear?

He didn’t get a chance to ask her about what she knew, because Mr Stark had looked up and spotted them, immediately silencing Rhodey with a movement of his hand. He looked like a deer caught in the headlights, obviously talking about something he didn’t want the pair to know about. The problem now though was, that he had just been arguing about it in front of two enhanced kids who definitely heard snippets of it.

“Kids, I was just about to send Mark VIII to go and find you. Come on over,” Both of the men relaxed and sat back up as the Pete and Venice joined them.

“Is everything okay?” Peter asked carefully, looking between the two of them.

“Never better,” Rhodey chimed, forgetting the argument he had just been in. “All thanks to Venice here, I feel like I’m twenty again.”

Pete watched as Venice attempted a smile, but it came out as more of a painful grimace. Peter winced.

“Well I know better than to ask if Peter is hungry, he’s guaranteed yes for seconds,” Mr Stark began, “but what about you Venice? What’ll it be? We’ve got cereal, waffles, bird seed…” he winked, and Venice raised her eyebrows.

“I’m good for now, thanks,” she replied dryly.

“Pete?” Tony turned back to him.

“Those waffles don’t sound half bad Mr Stark,” he got up from his seat as his mentor gestured for him to get up and help himself. He felt at ease as he moved around the kitchen – it definitely wasn’t the first time he’d organised his own meal here. Pepper had made sure that Peter knew he could help himself to the kitchen whenever he pleased.

“It’s time to start thinking forward,” Mr Stark began as Peter slid his waffles into the toaster.

“Can I just have a moment with Peter in private?” Venice cut in, surprising Stark. Peter froze, still holding the waffle he was just about to start cooking.

“Well, one of the things I was about to say, was that you two need to keep your raging hormones in check,” he continued, and Peter could feel the flush creeping up his neck and onto his cheeks. _Oh god, he did not just say that._

Venice pulled a face of mild disgust as well. “Um, no, that wasn’t at all where I was headed. Peter?” she called for him, and he obediently put down the waffle and followed her into the living room, rubbing his hands together as he followed. To say that he felt mortified would be an understatement. Did Mr Stark really think that he could be so easily distracted from the Avengers by a girl?

“What is it?” he asked quietly when she came to a stop.

Venice spoke quickly, and the calm façade she had put on in front of the men completely gone.  “I have to leave, we have to leave.”

“What? Why?” Peter’s stomach dropped at sight her fear. Something was really wrong.

“They want to send us after the United Nations,” she said.

“How do you know that? You promised not to read our minds!” Peter whisper-yelled at her.

“I never promised to not read Rhodey’s. It’s called a loop hole genius,” she argued back.

“God you’re impossible. Why is it so bad if Mr Stark wants us to go on a mission, it actually sounds pretty cool…”

“No! Just think for a moment what it means. We would be going after the most secure and heavily armed people in the world, just the two of us. When we get caught, we will be sent to prison. Not just any prison either, the prison for the enhanced. Those places are worse than a death sentence,” she ranted, and Peter could almost see where she was coming from.

“Mr Stark would never send us somewhere where he thought we could get arrested. He cares about us,” Peter reasoned, keeping his voice hushed.

“Who he does care about, are his friends. The ones that the Accords are hurting. He needs _us,_ because we aren’t apart of the Accords, to shame the UN so that the Accords will be burned, and his little hero club can get back together. _That’s_ what his game is here.”

“That’s ridiculous, he wouldn’t send us anywhere we weren’t prepared for,” Peter remained obstinate.

“Let’s go ask him ourselves, and see what he says. Because I for one, am not going to be arrested and turned into a pin cushion for that man,” she snapped, striding back past him with a face of thunder. Peter had to step out of the way so that he wouldn’t be knocked over by her wings.

He quickly caught up with her and grabbed her wrist before she could pass through the door. She whipped around to face him, but he was ready for the glare that she sent his way.

“Don’t say anything you’ll regret,” he said quietly.

She ripped her wrist from his grip with an unnatural amount of strength. “I never do.”

Venice continued to stride over to Tony and Rhodey, Pete trailing a few steps behind. He did not want to be associated at all with what was about to go down.

“Finished with your little league meeting?” Tony asked.

Venice frowned, not appreciating the mockery. “I would like to return home,” she stated in a surprisingly even tone.

 _Woah._ She had actually listened to what Peter had said. He hadn’t expected her to really pay the slightest attention to his words.

“Okay, not what I had expected,” he started. “Why is it that you want to leave the safety of the compound, huh?” he questioned.

“Because it’s not safe! Thanks to Rhodey and his loud ass thoughts, _I know_ that you want to throw us to the wolves to try and safe your Avenger buddies.” She snarled. With every word her wings had grown taller and tenser, and Peter could see Mr Stark fiddling with his watch.

“My loud ass thoughts? I didn’t think you liked to read minds?” Rhodey butted in.

“You were practically shouting about how you couldn’t wait to see Pepper beat him up for what he was planning, it was pretty hard _not_ to hear.” She rolled her eyes.

“Oh really?” Tony looked accusingly at his friend.

Before Rhodey had a chance to reply, Peter cut in. He knew soon that it was going to turn into one huge bitch fight like it always did, and he needed a few things cleared up first.

“Mr Stark, what’s really going on?”

“Listen, the idea was to introduce it to you a little more gradually, but thanks to Patrick Jane over there, I’m going to have to lay it all out now. Several weeks ago, one of the enhanced individuals I had been monitoring disappeared.

“I did a little digging into the case the police had gathered, and it turns out they believed she was stolen for one of the newer human trafficking rings. It specifically deals in enhanced peoples, such as yourselves. Obviously this peaked my interest, and I kept researching.

“Something interesting that I found, was that this exclusive ring has only 116 members. How many countries signed the Accords again?”

“117,” Peter breathed, not liking the dark turn this had taken.

“Right. I made an educated guess that they hadn’t approached Wakanda to join their ring, seeing as their King is enhanced. That would leave 116 countries.

Of course that wasn’t enough to go on. So, I had a peek at some government files, and saw that buried deep deep down, was a record of some pretty considerable transactions and research grants. Funding for medical research. It doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together.” Tony revealed a box of files, sitting it gently down on the bench top.

“They’re experimenting on the enhanced,” Venice realised, her wings dropping almost immediately. Her words made Peter’s stomach churn.

Mr Stark nodded.

“Now, Rhodey and I are bound by the Accords, we don’t have permission from the United Nations. If we approached them and even hinted that we were onto them, then the operation would go even further underground and we would disappear too. We are the last line of defence. If we also act out against the Accords, than that would seal the deal for us in the eye of the public. We would be an uncontrollable danger, and no one would question our disappearance.

“If two individuals however, not bound by the accords, somehow stumbled across this information, well they may just be able to formulate a plan and work together to take down the ring. Rhodey and I wouldn’t have anything to do with it.”

Tony leaned back in his seat. “On another completely unrelated note however, you are both welcome to stay at my building in the city, and complete the ‘after-school boot camp’ I had ready.”

“I thought you sold Stark Tower?” Peter asked, confused.

“Jesus kid, as if I only owned one tower.” Stark shook his head in amazement.

“Tony, you can’t seriously be doing this!” Rhodey burst out, looking wide eyed between Peter, Tony and Venice. “They’re two teenagers with no experience or training.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, I’m not telling them to do anything. I would call them untrained, either. They’ve got a boot camp coming up.”

Rhodey groaned. “This is honestly the last thing I expected from you, of all people Tony.”

“They wouldn’t, hypothetically, be alone either,” Tony muttered, taking out a flip phone and placing it on top of the files. Rhodey stilled as he laid his eyes on it, taken aback by its appearance into the room.

Peter had absolutely no idea what was going on by this point. What did Mr Stark mean they wouldn’t be alone? What was so special about that phone? _Why_ did Mr Stark have a _flip phone_ on him?

Venice turned around to face him, sending him a questioning look. He shrugged his shoulders, sending her a look to say that he didn’t understand the old men references either.

“Oh my god…” Rhodey murmured.

Peter decided to speak up. “I don’t get it.”

“I don’t expect you to,” Tony replied. _Well that’s a great help._

“How long would the ‘boot-camp’ be?” Venice interrupted, waking up from what ever deep thought she’d been in.

“Two weeks. Thursdays you get a break from training, and on Tuesdays and Wednesdays you only have half days of school. Rhodey, Happy and I will all oversee your practices. I have to make this very clear: this ‘boot camp’ is a program offered by Stark Industries, and it does _not_ make you a member of the Avengers,” Stark explained. Rhodey sat silently, apparently resigning himself to what was going to happen.

Venice only hesitated for a moment. “I’m in.” She nodded.

“What?” Peter spluttered. He couldn’t keep up with her – how was she all of a sudden agreeing with this?

“I’ve spent the last six years hiding from people who might want to experiment on me for my powers, and you expect me to just turn a blind eye as the damned United Nations torture others for the same reason? While I’ve got all of this back up?” she asked pointedly, and Peter threw his hands up in defence.

“Wh- no! I just didn’t think you would agree so quickly,” he confessed.

“Well it’s good news for you. Are you in?”

“I mean, yeah,” he replied lamely.

Venice raised her eyebrows at him but didn’t say anything. _Way to sound real professional, Parker._

She pulled the box of files across the bench, Stark literally turning a blind eye to it as he looked out the window. She pocketed the cell before lifting the box into her arms.

“C’mon Parker, get your waffles to go.” She ordered, already walking back towards the bedrooms. He scooted over to the kitchen picked his prizes out of the toaster.

“I can’t believe you gave me an actual mission Mr Stark,” Peter confessed, pausing by the two men.

“You and me both,” Rhodey muttered.

Stark shot him a glare before turning to Peter. “I don’t know what you’re talking about kid.” He finished with a wink.

“Right, well I won’t let you down.” Pete promised, turning to chase after Venice who hadn’t waited a moment for him.

“I know,” Tony said quietly, watching his kid disappear around the corner, waffles in hand.

* * *

The pair had set up temporary base in Venice’s room, sitting on the floor as they leaved through the files that Tony had given them. They had four days before their training would begin and they would have to return to school. Two weeks after that they would leave for their mission.

Tony couldn’t risk any further affiliation with the mission, and so it would be up to the two teenagers to plan and execute the entire operation.

Maybe.

The very first thing they had taken out to examine was the curious flip phone that Tony had placed on the box. Both teens were incredibly intrigued as to what such an outdated piece of tech was doing on his personal.

Admittedly it took them several minutes to work out how to open the saved numbers.

Only one name came up, but it was worth everything to the pair and their situation.

Steve Rogers.

Naturally they both wanted to ring the rebel up right away, but upon further consideration they both decided against it. They needed at least half a plan before they rang up America’s ex-favourite.

“I still think we need to expand our team,” Peter argued.

“Do you have any other super-hero pals that have no problem going up against the UN?” Venice asked sarcastically.

“No, I’ve got something even better – a guy in the chair.”

Venice could help but to start laughing. Who did Spider-Man think he was?

“Who are you, Ethan Hunt? This isn’t Mission Impossible,” she spluttered, realising the irony of what she just said as soon as it passed her lips.

“That is literally what I would call our situation,” Peter deadpanned.

“Okay, I’ll give you that one,” she conceded.

He made a little victorious sound as they continued to scan through the files. There were endless pages of coding, which she immediately passed over to Peter whenever she pulled some out. That definitely wasn’t her area of expertise, and judging by the Star Wars references he had made the previous night, Peter would be into that sort of thing.

Tony had done a good job at trying to set them up with enough information. Each country had records of payment transactions through the ring, and anything else that could be related to the underground operation. There were trails that lead to private contracts with professional kidnappers, unauthorized use of satellites, donations to ‘medical research facilities’, and receipts for non-disclosed international shipments.

And then there were the profiles of suspected victims.

Tony had only gathered those from the US, but in their country alone, there were over twenty cases from the past six months. Venice felt sickened as she scanned over their profiles, seeing their blank faces in the small mug shots that were on the top right corner of each front page. When she came across the file for nine-year-old Ryan, she had to put them down.

“I can’t fucking believe this Peter. They’re taking children too. This boy was _nine._ Who could hurt a nine-year-old kid?” Peter looked up at her in surprise, which quickly turned to a steely resolve.

“We’re going to save them. Every single one of them, I promise.” He said solemnly, looking dead into her eyes.

Suddenly, Venice didn’t mind the obsessive righteousness in him.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yayyyy they aren't finding each other quite so annoying now! Time to get down to business and start building a team:)
> 
> I've got half a plot formed now and it feels amazing to be organised wowsers lol


	7. Caffeine Induced Cleverness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly I gave up on this fic for a while, so I apologise. I felt like I'd hit a wall with this chapter, and shamefully I abandoned it because I couldn't be bothered resurrecting it. But recently I've been missing Venice and her adventure (to come), so I'm back at it. I don't know how regular updates will be, but I want to explore her a bit more :)

The two teenagers spent most of the next three days holed up in Venice’s room, trying to formulate some kind of plan. There were sticky notes of every colour dotted around the room, and scribbles of theories everywhere. They even had a giant pin board of strings connecting different documents to each other. It looked like something out of an old spy or a cop movie, and Venice was secretly digging it. So far, they had pieced together the major players of the ring. America, China, Russia, Australia, Saudi Arabia, France, Great Britain, India, Mexico and South Africa had all contributed considerable amounts in different aspects to the operation. Peter had dubbed them as the ‘Terrible Ten’.

A fair amount of their time had been dedicated to find a pattern within the Terrible Ten’s behaviour that would lead them to a location, however progress on that one was slow. Some of what Venice thought was coding turned out to be encrypted messages – a huge leap forward for them if it could be cracked.

They were less than halfway through figuring out the code, but they figured that it was their best chance to find co-ordinates for a location. Patterns in other documents clued that there was in fact only one facility, which the pair had mixed feelings about.

Peter thought that if all of the prisoners were in one spot for them to save, it would be easier.

Venice argued that security would be insanely high if it was all concentrated in one location.

The time pressure was starting to get to Venice, and the stress was showing. As much as she tried not to, occasionally she snapped at Pete over little things, especially if she hadn’t had any caffeine pills recently. Beyond that, it was beginning to show physically. Her wings were malting, little trails of feather left behind where ever she went.

Venice may have felt embarrassed and guilty about the mess it caused, but Peter didn’t say a word about it. He didn’t care about the mess – it wasn’t as if he was allergic to feathers. But the more that fell out, the more he worried about the girl. The mission was freaking her out, and Pete could tell even if she tried to hide it. He tried his best to ease the weight on her shoulders, but sometimes he made it worse and she lashed out. Pete brushed off her words, trying to not let them bite as much as they would’ve normally.

They had just sat down with their first coffee of the day when Tony came knocking.

“Not planning to break in to anywhere official in here, I hope,” he said as he let himself in.

“Of course not, could you imagine doing such a thing?” Venice wondered, looking over at Peter.

“Never in my wildest dreams,” Peter feigned innocence, putting his mug down. Inside there were eight shots of pure caffeine, and he already knew that he was going to get very jittery later. May would be so mad if she found out he was having so much caffeine.

In his defence, it was hard to crack codes on four hours of sleep.

“Not a bad set up you got going, even if it’s outdated by about a hundred years or so,” Tony remarked, looking over their pinboard. It was resting on a chair against the wall, since they’d moved Venice’s desk to the centre of the room. The desk itself could barely be seen beneath all of the paper work, extension cords feeding to it from the walls to charge the multiple laptops and phones that sat on top.

“Nothing wrong with something a little old fashioned,” Venice defended their layout.

“God, you sound like this guy I used to be friends with – had the longest stick up his ass.” Tony muttered, shaking his head.

“Were they any good at cracking codes?” Peter wondered, rubbing his eyes.

“If the code was how to be an old prick, then consider them a master.” He replied dryly. Peter widened his eyes a little but didn’t comment any further. His brain had been a little slow to connect the dots, but now that he was on the same page, he wanted off the topic quickly.

He knew that talking about Cap was a no go with Mr Stark.

An awkward silence threatened to fall, but Venice didn’t give it the chance to settle.

“So, what brings you here Stark? We aren’t mind readers, you’re going to have to tell us.” She joked, supressing a sly grin.

“Seriously?” Pete groaned. It was too early for shitty jokes.

“Hey, do you know how many opportunities I’ve had to joke about my powers but not been able to? I have so much ground to make up for,” she insisted. Peter slumped back in his chair, giving up.

“I gotta agree with Peter on this one. Anyway, I came here to tell you that you need to pack up whatever _homework_ you’ve been doing and get ready to leave for the city. You’re moving in for bootcamp this afternoon, in case you forgot.”

Peter heard Venice swear softly, and he turned to look at her. A troubled frown had taken over her features.

“What’s the date today?” she asked, raking her hand through her hair.

“It’s the 22nd. Is there a problem?” Tony asked in a wary voice.

“I can’t exactly return to school looking like this, can I?” Venice replied, spreading her wings a little for emphasis. Peter’s mouth formed an O-shape as he caught on to what she was talking about. It would be hard for them to carry out their mission if she was recognised and arrested for attacking that guy.

“Luckily for us, the full moon is in two days time. I’ll have to stay inside the building until then, and afterwards I can return to school.” She said firmly, assuring herself of her plan.

“Oh, and about school,” Tony began, and both of them looked at him suspiciously. “Venice I’ve arranged it so that you’ll have a temporary transfer to Midtown High for the two weeks.”

“What?” she spluttered. “Why?”

“I’m going to have an undercover security detail watching over you both, and it’s a lot easier if you’re both in the same spot. Plus, Happy threatened to quit if I made him pick up two separate teenagers. He insists that he will not assume the role of a soccer mum.” Tony explained.

Venice hesitated before replying. “Alright, fine. Who doesn’t love being the new girl?” she sighed.

“Pete’ll look after you.” Tony assured her.

Peter nodded in agreement. “Yeah, it’s not so bad there.” She could hang out with the trio, he was sure. Ned might freak out if he found out who she was, and Peter was pretty sure he had to tell him. MJ… Well he had to deal with the whole her-seeing-him-jump-over-the-fence-thing before he worried about introducing them.

Tony left them after that, but Peter could see that something still wasn’t right with Venice. Her face was tense as she started to reorganise papers.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“It’s nothing,” she dismissed.

He sighed in exasperation. “I thought we agreed that we’d be more open about stuff, to build team morale or whatever.”

“Fine. I don’t now how I’m supposed to explain disappearing for two weeks to my friends,” she said abruptly.

“And?” he prompted, knowing that there was something else too.

Venice hesitated, subtly wringing her hands. “I’m going to miss not having to hide. It the first time in _years_ I’ve been able to freely walk around other people. Don’t get me wrong, I love being able to blend in with the rest of humanity, but it still sucks having to restrain your powers. Count yourself lucky you can hide in plain sight without sacrificing anything,” she laughed wistfully.

Her words hit Peter harder than he had expected. He had never thought about it like that. Sure, he got privacy from the mask, but the bite hadn’t altered him physically. Well, at least not in a way that could be visibly noticed. Looking at Venice now, he could see how much it really affected her. The reality had come crashing back down on her, weighing down on her like Jupiter’s gravity.

“We might need them for the mission… maybe you shouldn’t do the spell?” he countered.

“I’d be spotted from twenty miles away with these. This whole thing is based on stealth,” she pointed out.

She had him there. What Venice needed was a way to be able to make her wings appear and disappear on a dime. Peter wracked his mind for ideas… She had already tried magick, and had proven pretty impractical so far. It was time to go back to his old reliable, science. He remembered reading something not to long ago about new nano-molecular technology used for healing devastating wounds that worked at impressive speeds. Maybe tech like that could be used to instantly create and then disassemble her wings…

“I’ve got it,” he spoke quickly, already whipping out his phone. Venice looked at him with curiosity.

“Really?” she sounded dubious.

“Yup. I’ve got this super smart friend who might be able to make you something. I actually met her during one of Mr Stark’s fancy get together things…” he trailed off as the phone started to ring. He put it on loud speaker, figuring that Venice would want to be hear his idea.

The call was answered on the fourth ring.

“Peter!” Shuri answered. “Are you calling to finally admit that Star Trek is better than Star Wars?” she teased.

“Never,” he shot back, grinning at the phone. “I’ve actually called to see if you wanted to help us with a mission.”

“Oh man, this ought to be good. What this _mission_ of yours?” she wondered.

Peter opened his mouth to explain, but Shuri cut him off before he could utter a word. “Wait, at least change over to FaceTime first. It feels like we’re in the 19th century, not being able to see you.” She insisted.

Peter simply rolled his eyes as he changed it over, but Venice was absolutely bewildered. Who was this girl? She sounded like she was their age… What could she possibly have to offer them?

“Okay, now hurry up and tell me about this mission of yours. I’ve actually got important things to do.”

“I know that you’re still trying to catch up on Brooklyn Nine-Nine, don’t lie. But anyway,” he pressed on before she could retaliate, “we’re planning to break into the United Nation’s secret facility and we were hoping you could make something for us,” he explained.

Venice looked at Peter like he was a madman. Why was he telling others the plan? This girl could tell anyone, or someone could be listening to the phone call. She was yet to see who Pete was talking to, but she could hear the tired frustration in her voice as she swore in a language Venice didn’t recognise.

“You’re such a stupid white boy, Peter. You can’t single handily take on the UN, idiot. Why do you even want to do this?” she asked.

“Hey! It’s not just me, I’m building a team of sorts. If you feel like rebelling against your brother, you can join. Also, they’re kidnapping people who have powers and experimenting on them.”

“You’re shitting me?”

“Nope. Venice here is going to help me take them down,” Peter spoke as he moved around beside Venice, ignoring her silent protests to be left out of this.

“Hey Ve– damn girl, you build those yourself?” Shuri admired her wings. She shouldered Peter away, sending him a dirty look.

“No, they’re not tech. Nice to meet you, by the way.” she nodded. 

“That’s actually what we need help with,” Peter continued. “We some sort of cloak that can hide them whenever we need to. It’s obviously a stealth mission, and they’re pretty attention grabbing.”

“I never agreed to be apart of your little club” Shuri reminded him.

“So you don’t want to help us free people who are like your brother, Venice and I, that are being kidnapped and tortured? Or are you afraid that you couldn’t make the tech?” Peter wondered.

“Don’t think for a second that I’m not in. You do realise though that you are asking me to make an entire body part disappear? It’s no good making it invisible if you can still feel it. How long would I have to create this scientific miracle?” she asked.

“A couple of days. I was thinking something like the nano-molecular tech would work,” Peter shrugged.

“You’re lucky I already made the White Wolf an arm, so at least I have somewhere to start,” she grumbled, but Peter’s eyes lit up.

“Is he still living the farmer’s life?” he asked quickly.

“Yes…”she said with considerable apprehension.

Peter spoke as if he were a small child asking for another bowl of ice cream. “Do you think we could borrow him for a few days?”

“What? No Peter! He needs to stay with his goats, _far_ away from any governments!” She hissed.

“We are going to try and get Steve to help us.”

“Oh.” Shuri went quiet for a moment. “Okay, I’ll think about it. I’m going to need specs on the wings, so keep your phone on you and I’ll text you our next move. I gotta go and work some miracles.” And with that, she ended the call.

Peter looked very satisfied with himself. “See? Shuri makes Einstein look like a second grader. She’ll figure something out.”

“She’s our age – how does she even have access to any resources that we would need?” Venice spluttered.

“Being the Princess of Wakanda comes with some benefits.”

“ _Shit,_ that was the Princess? Thanks for the heads up!”

“What? She’s cool.”

Venice tried not to let her frustration out too harshly. Trust Peter to leave out that vital detail, it was such a typical guy thing to do. Instead of saying something snarky back at him, she just glared at him and shoved his shoulder forcefully enough to nearly tip him off of the chair. At the last moment, he shot a small web at the table and righted himself, earning an eyeroll from Venice.

_Freaking show off._

* * *

The Wakandan princess called back several hours later, a while after the pair had finished boxing up all of their notes. The only folder they kept out, was the code that they were yet to crack. Peter, who’s morning dosage of caffeine had well and truly kicked in, had taken to pacing across the ceiling whilst he thought on it. When his phone started to vibrate in his pocket, he moved too quickly and it slipped from his pocket, heading straight for the tiles below. Venice, who had been sitting in the corner and watching him with amusement, dove forward and stretched her wing out to soften its fall – only for Peter to catch it at the last moment with a web.

“Oh my god, please tell me that isn’t going to happen when we are trying to break into the most secure facility in the history of mankind.”

“Nah, normally when I sneak around the bad guys facility, I let a fire cracker off to make sure I’ve broken in,” he rolled his eyes as he answered Shuri’s call. Casually, with just one hand, he swung down and lowered himself to the ground.

“I’ve had so much caffeine I can see into the nest dimension,” was his greeting remark to the girl as he sat down beside Venice.

“That must be the component lacking from my Multiverse Projection tech – an unhealthy abuse of caffeine. Remind me to program it into the AI.”

“As long as you name it after me. How’d you go with the stealth tech?” Peter picked up a loose feather from the ground and poked it into Venice’s mess of a ponytail as he spoke.

“Let’s just say that it’s good my brother doesn’t care how much Vibranium I use down here. But I think I’ve got something for you. If I can intertwine the Vibranium with the cells of Venice’s wings, then I can use Nano-tech to allow them to appear and disappear with just a thought. This way, they’re still organic, but can also be used as a shield or weapon – I figured that could be useful for your mission. And like Bucky’s arm, it will all still be linked directly to her nervous system.

“The only thing is, that I need you guys in my lab to finish it. To combine the Vibranium with Venice’s cells, I need the equipment I have here.” She looked between the two fully serious, and they understood the implications.

Firstly, they would have to cross country borders to get to her lab, which for the Princess usually wouldn’t be a problem, however this was all a secret. There was no explanation for Peter and Venice to just appear in Wakanda for a few hours before disappearing again.

The three of them sat in silence for a few moments, mulling over the problem. They really, _really_ badly needed this tech. Venice couldn’t believe that it was possible for her to blend in without it being semipermanent. She wasn’t too sure yet of what she thought of having practically metal wings, however that issue was by far outweighed by the opportunity in front of her.

“Are you sure you couldn’t do it in Tony’s lab?” Venice’s voice was quiet.

“All of my equipment is specialised. I wouldn’t want to risk it.”

“Okay.”

“Look, if you guys can sneak out for a day or two, I might have someone who will get you in. I will go and talk to Nakia now, you two try and figure out shit on your end.” Shuri hung up promptly, leaving the other two sitting alone in the corner.

“There’s no way that Mr Stark will let us leave for a few days.”

“I know,” Venice whispered. She tilted her head back until it softly hit the wall, and closed her eyes. “It just sucks to be so close.”

The feather slowly dislodged from where Peter had stuck in her hair, until it tumbled down her shoulder and into her lap. It would be strange to see her again without wings, he’d gotten accustomed to them so quickly. Pete knew that if they didn’t figure out a way to get to Wakanda, then Venice would do her ‘spell’ and it would be over. Sitting there wasn’t going to help their situation at all though, and there was something had been dying to ask.

“Hey Venice, how come you haven’t flown anywhere since being here?”

She hesitated. “I haven’t been allowed to for years. I don’t know if I still could.”

“But surely you want to?”

She scoffed at Peter’s question. “Of course.”

He felt himself light up with the idea of his next suggestion, however is could have just been the last traces of caffeine coursing through his veins. It was the perfect way to get her mind off of the disappointment… Well as least he thought it was.

“Come to the gym with me. I want to get a few swings in, I think I’m having withdrawals from it being here and sitting still. You can have a go at flying too, I mean it’s just huge down there, the Falcon and Wanda used to practice down there apparently.” He stood up eagerly, already reaching down a hand for Venice to take.

She took it slowly and let him help her up, but he didn’t see the excitement on her face that he was expecting. “I think I’ll just watch you tangle yourself up in your webs.”

His shoulders sagged, but Peter didn’t give up so easily. “C’mon, you have to get one good flight in before school, and it’s always boring training in there alone.”

“I’m a great audience.”

“ _Venice,”_

“Okay, but you can’t be watching.”

“Seriously?” Pete gave her a surprised look, but her serious one didn’t waver. Her crossed arms told him that she wasn’t going to budge on it either.

“Alright, fine. I’ll close my eyes. You just can’t get mad if I accidently web you and not the wall.”

She let out a half-hearted chuckle and Peter felt himself relax. She had actually agreed to it. And he kind of liked her laugh – he was yet to hear the real thing, but he would bet anything that it was one of those harmonious, contagious ones. He couldn’t help but smile as he lead her to the Avenger’s gym.

Just as Peter had promised, the room was huge. It could have easily housed its own squadron of jets, but instead it was dedicated to making the enhanced sweat. Beyond a regular gym however, the equipment here was designed to test them – which meant that everything was bigger, heavier and wilder. The roof alone towered into the sky, beams, platforms and obstacles scattered randomly throughout the air. It didn’t quite compare to slinging it through the streets, but Peter still loved training up there.

The outer ring of the floor was riddled with a variety of challenges that pushed even Captain America. Peter could only describe it as an obstacle course on steroids, looming over everyone with its towering walls and endless ropes. The teenager was honestly surprised that Mr Stark hadn’t installed a piranha pool, because it was the only thing missing from the course. One of the latest instalments was the Street Fighter Mode. Target dummies labelled either as ‘civilian’ or ‘psychotic douchebag’ would pop up out of the blue, usually at the most inconvenient times. Obviously, the objective was to hit the psychotic douchebag and leave the civilian, with the plot twist of having to ensure civilian safety. If you didn’t take down the psychotic douchebag fast enough, then you get civilian casualties – and you lose.

A red square, no larger than a boxing ring, was painted onto the centre of the room, setting the boundary for sparring practice. There was no comfort of matting on the ground… When were the Avengers every afforded such luxuries in the real world? Never. In the words of Steve Rogers, ‘if you get killed, walk it off’. Somehow Peter had heard a rumour that originally it was just an outline of a square, however Tony had had to paint it all red because the bloodstains weren’t coming off of the concrete.

He was fairly sure that it was just a load of shit to intimidate him, but none the less he would never have confessed that the story had made him wary of the square.

He spared Venice the graphic backstory as he took her to the centre, where she would have plenty of room to stretch out her wings. She had maintained a perfect poker face as they approached the square, however Peter could hear just how wildly her heart was beating inside her chest. Peter paused, giving her a chance to back out if she wanted to. Apparently Venice was determined to maintain her confident façade, and looked at him with a quizzical expression, tilting her head a little. There was a moment or two of awkward facing off before Peter realised that she was waiting for him to clear out so she could be alone. He cleared his throat and hurriedly apologised before excusing himself to practice some of the new web combinations he and Tony had been working on. Peter only just reached the edge of the square before he shot a web out at the rafters and leapt away. The air rushed past his ears as he flew through the giant space and up to one of the ledges, and a tiny grin pulled at the corner of his mouth. Sure, the sound of the air rushing past him hurt a little without the suit to muffle it out, but finally he was up and doing something.

He landed softly on the ledge and spun around to face Venice again, gazing down at her from three stories up. Dramatically he squeezed his eyes shut, so tightly that he could almost see stars on the backs of his eyelids. Then, as an extra measure, he smacked a hand across the front of his face.

“Okay, I promise I’m not looking,” his voice floated cheekily down to her, and his ears picked up very clearly on some explicit grumbles in return.

* * *

Venice had been very careful not to let Peter know how only the thought of actually flying sent jitters throughout every nerve in her body. She had gripped her sleeves in tight fists to stop them from trembling, and kept absolutely everything about herself passive. Now that he was most definitely not seeing her standing there, completely out of her depth in the freaking Avenger’s gym, she let her body succumb to the adrenaline.

The worst part was that Venice didn’t know if it was excitement or nerves that was driving her crazy. What would happen if she didn’t get off the ground? What would happen if she _did_? Was it possible for limbs to suffer from muscular atrophy if they spent years in the astral plane? These questions and more were swirling around in Venice’s mind as she steeled her voice to reply to the boy above. Her answer wasn’t shaky, much to her relief, but nor was the tone confident. She could feel him begin to feel unsure of his decision to persuade her to come down here, but it was too late. Venice wasn’t one to back out of things once she had committed, no matter how daunting it was.

 


	8. Abundance of Epiphanies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is long overdue... thank you for your lovely comments on the last chapter! I'm trying to speed this up without missing out any of the things I really wanted to include, so I hope you've bared with me:)

“Okay, so it didn’t go too well. But that doesn’t mean you should give up straight away! I’m sure it will come back to you!” Peter yelled after Venice as she strode hurriedly from the gym.  The humiliation was rising up to her cheeks, and she could feel a mixture of frustration and anger beginning to swirl in her stomach.

It had been a mess.

“Wait up,” he said more softly as he caught up to her. She pulled her wings back and as close to herself as possible, hiding them as much as she could.

“Forget it Pete,” Venice murmured, staring straight into his eyes.

But when did Peter ever drop something that he didn’t want to? Venice should’ve known by now it wouldn’t be that easy.

“C’mon, do you know how many times I ate gravel when I first started swinging? You just have to get used to it again.” He squared up his shoulders, confident in his argument.

“I don’t care what you say Peter, I am not trying again today. I just need a few moments to myself, I’ll be in my room,” she smiled apologetically before turning away, her poker face sliding straight down over her features as soon as her back was turned. She focussed on keeping her face void of any emotion as she walked back through the facility, in case Tony or Rhodey stumbled upon her. As she rounded corners and walked up stairs she hoped would lead her back to her room, her mind kept picking at a memory that for a very long time she had locked away. Being in that gym had teased it back to just below the surface of her subconscious, but no part of her was curious about exploring it. Venice knew that she had worked hard to put it behind her.

Someone had been in her room and removed all of the boxes that she and Peter had filled earlier that day. The room felt bare without their investigation covering the majority of the surfaces, the only evidence that she had been staying there was the slightly crumpled bed and the few books she a brought along. All evidence of their endeavour was gone.

She sighed and moved away from the door, and towards her back pack. So far, she had managed to hold Tony back from sending men into her house to collect up her things, arguing that it would be a waste of time to only have to move it again a few days later to the town house they were to stay in for the next two weeks. But now that it was time for the move, Venice was out of reasons and so she estimated that around now they would be in her room, sorting through to find the list of things that she had written down for Stark. It made her uncomfortable, knowing that strangers were invading her personal hide away.

Inside her bag she found the pack of cigarettes, and with ease pulled one out and sat it between her lips while she dug around for her lighter. She swore it was always running away from her fingers when she went looking for it. She pushed aside lip balm and chargers and notepads until finally, her fingers grasped the cool plastic, gripping it tightly as she pulled it out. Swiftly she lit the end that was hanging out of her mouth and moved towards the window, sucking in as she did.

One benefit of being able to heal herself, was that she could practice rather unhealthy habits such as smoking without the danger of lung damage or cancer. Why shouldn’t she enjoy a smoke or two every now and again when she was alone?

Lazily she let the cigarette hang between her lips as she traced her fingertips along the smooth surface of the window frame. The last time she had snuck out of one of these, was that night that she had briefly mentioned to Peter on the plane.

 She had flown high above the streets of New York, the wind nipping at her skin through her sweater. For weeks, ever since her wings had developed to a decent size, she had been practicing in her back yard at night, when she was sure her father was asleep. Three nights prior, her feet had finally lifted off of the ground and _she stayed in the air._ From there, suddenly everything felt natural and without meaning too, she had eventually ended up going sight-seeing over the city that never sleeps.

In hindsight, Venice was glad she had ventured over the city, given what happened shortly afterwards… Until recently she could perfectly recall the memory if she closed her eyes, but now it was slowly slipping from her grasp.

_Maybe it meant that it was time?_

For a while now, Venice had been considering something a little more permanent to allow her to fit in with society; well, fit in as much as any enhanced could. It felt like eons since she had ever had any use of her wings, and even then it was brief. They had been reduced to nothing more than a cosmetic flaw that required monthly maintenance. It was time for a more sustainable solution. Why shouldn’t she consider surgery? Venice was getting older now, and college was fast approaching. How could she explain the ritual that would seem horrific and satanic to an unsuspecting roommate? She could imagine them now, walking in on her sitting in a circle surrounded by candles and ancient tools, with a knife to her side as she carved the sigil. Her reputation would be down the drain, and no doubt she would be forced to see some kind of therapist or priest because of it. Her father’s reputation would probably also be tarnished in the medical world. What would his colleagues think of him having a daughter who practiced magick and Eastern Medicine?

Nope. That was not the future she wanted.

Stark had mentioned when they first met that he would be able to help her walk around unnoticed. He must have connections to some of the best specialists in the world, some hopefully that wouldn’t know her father.  He probably knew some high-end lawyers that could organise some kind of non-disclosure agreement too, to stop it all hitting the media and getting out.

Her thought-provoking smoke break was cut short by a soft rap on her door. Already knowing who it would be, she welcomed them in, small puffs of smoke filtering between her lips as she spoke.

Peter hadn’t walked three steps into the room before he started coughing. He looked up in disgust at the dart she was halfway through. “Have you never heard of cancer?” he asked, voice slightly muffled by the shirt h had pulled up to his nose.

“Biokinesis, remember?”

“Enhanced senses, remember?” he mocked.

“Shit, sorry,” she apologised, pushing the butt into the window seal. It left a faint mark, but it wiped away with one brush of her finger. She fanned her hands around a little, trying to get any remaining smoke out the window so that Pete could come out from beneath his shirt. She was pretty sure he was just being dramatic because he probably didn’t approve, but it was a polite thing to do anyway.

“I didn’t know you smoked,” he started, finally pulling his shirt down from his face.

“I don’t normally around other people.”

“Oh.”

In the silence that followed, Venice prepared herself for the lecture or inspirational speech that she sure was coming. Peter seemed like the type of guy who would be right into that. He would probably refer to something he learnt as Spider-Man, just like Captain America and those endless videos that the teachers made them watch at school.

“May told me that sometimes girls will say that they want to be alone, but they actually want you to follow them, but sometimes they also really mean that they want to be alone. It was really confusing, because how can the same phrase mean two things? Anyway, I wasn’t sure what you wanted me to do so I thought I’d give you a few minutes and see if you’re okay. Are you okay?” Peter rambled, sucking in a deep breath at the end.

_Well, that wasn’t what I had expected from him. A confession that his Aunt gives him girl advice and that he still doesn’t understand us._

“I’m fine Peter,” she reassured him, but he still didn’t look convinced. “I should actually thank you. Today was the push that I needed.”

 _That_ took him by surprise. “Really?” He sounded dubious.

“Yeah, totally. I shouldn’t have been putting it off for so long, and I over reacted before. I think we should start thinking about our next problem.” She steered his attention away from the topic of her flying. She didn’t want to tell him about what she was going to do, not quite yet. She had a feeling that he wouldn’t like the idea, and he certainly wouldn’t understand.

“Great, what is it now?” he groaned, happily moving on. Relief flooded through Venice as she continued.

“School.”

“Oh okay,” he paused, before suddenly his eyes widened. “Oh _shit!_ ”

Venice was taken aback. She didn’t realise it was going to be that much of an issue.

“I feel like we are thinking about two separate school related things,” she began, but Peter wasn’t listening anymore. His eyes were darting around as he looked at the floor, and he nervously rubbed the back of his neck.

“Don’t make me read your mind,” she threatened, “What’s up?”

He grimaced as he looked up. “Nothing do to with you. I may have accidently revealed who I am to someone, and I don’t know how she’s going to react.”

“Girlfriend?”

Venice swore that she saw him blush a little. “Um nah, no. MJ, she’s… she’s not that.”

“Well, I can let you know exactly what she plans to do tomorrow when I meet her,” she offered.

Peter frowned. “As temptingly easy as that sounds, I’m going to find out what she is thinking the normal way… First, anyway.”

“Good luck with that. We’re supposed to be leaving for ‘bootcamp’ in about fifteen minutes, but I have to go talk to Stark about something. If I don’t meet you in time for the jet, then I’ll meet you at the townhouse tonight.” She filled him in, slinging her bag over her shoulder as she did so.

“What’s so important?”

“Nothing related to the mission,” she dismissed.

Peter tensed. “I thought we agreed to trust each other?”

“And I do Peter, but there are just some things that you don’t share with teammates.” She argued.

“Huh,” Peter looked up at the ceiling before staring into her eyes. “And here I thought we were becoming friends. _Friends_ tell each other stuff, but I guess that’s not the case here. I’m heading over to the jet, have fun having your secret talk with Mr Stark.”

Venice watched him walk away, guilt building in her stomach over the fact that she had to keep her plans a secret from him. It wasn’t as if he could do the same if he wanted to – Venice could just peer into his mind and within moments find out whatever he was hiding.

But it would all be over soon, she hoped.

* * *

Peter refused to look at Venice as she boarded the plane. The most that he offered her was a disappointed look as she sat down. She tried give something like an apologetic face back, but he wasn’t having it.

He wasn’t quite sure why he was taking it all so personally, but he was. Maybe it was his spidey-sense, or maybe it was just a gut feeling, but something felt off.

It was silent as the jet rose from the tarmac and took off for New York. Mr Stark wasn’t flying in with them today – apparently some last minute business had cropped up that he had to take care of. It was just Happy in charge of the pair.

“It should be dark by the time we arrive, so less chance of either of you being spotted,” Happy informed them, opening up his tablet to scroll through things that Peter suspected were probably very boring.

“Thank you,” Venice’s voice was quiet, as if she didn’t want to further upset Peter.

“Do you know when Mr Stark will be coming out?” Peter leaned forward to rest his elbows in his knees.

It was only fleeting, but he could have sworn he saw Happy glance at Venice, as if she knew something Peter didn’t.

“Should be in the next few days.”

Venice wasn’t giving away anything, wearing that mask that Peter hadn’t seen since he had first met her. It unsettled him now just as much as it did then.

He didn’t pursue the topic any further, and settled in for what he knew would be a quiet flight. It wasn’t as if he had anything to say to her – she was the one holding something back. Right now, he would’ve given anything to be a telepathic too.

Peter made a pact with himself to find out eventually what she was hiding. Last time he had had this feeling about something, he had discovered and taken down an underground weapons operations (thanks Toomes).

Unfortunately, Venice appeared to be a sealed tomb, holding deep secrets that she wouldn’t give up willingly. She would be hard to crack.

But Mr Stark probably wouldn’t.

He would have to tell Peter what was happening, especially if it was going to impact the mission.

Speaking of, Peter had done some thinking about the coding they were stuck on. He whipped out his phone and begun texting Ned.

_P: yo, we are coming back to the city today_

_N: already?_

_N: wait, we???_

_P: mr stark trusts the girl. i was starting to get to know her and she seemed okay but now something is off_

_N: well she did kill a guy…_

_P: actually she didn’t… it’s a long story_

_N: bro tell me everything tomorrow at school_

Peter thought that he should probably tell Ned that Venice would be joining them for two weeks, but it just didn’t feel right texting it. He would call his friend later tonight about it.

_P: yeah okay. Everything’s very complicated at the moment, but I have a code I need your help with. U in?_

_N: Is this for a mission with Ironman??!???_

_P: I can’t say_

_N: oh right, that’s totally cool. Give it to me tomorrow tho_

_P: cya then_

Peter checked if he had any messages from MJ, but his messages were completely empty. Not being in the mood to make casual conversation with Venice, he started scrolling through his Instagram feed. Flash had taken a strange mirror selfie with the trophy from the science convention. Was he cramping up or something? _Oh no,_ Peter realised. He was trying to flex in the mirror. Literally flexing in a flex post.

Peter scrolled by quickly, past some of the photography and meme accounts that always spammed his feed. He only made it past a few more posts when a notification popped up in the bottom corner.

A comment.

Ned had probably tagged him in some shit post like he always did several times a day.

Without even hesitating he followed the tag to the post. Instead of a meme so bad it was funny, it was a video. The frame was of a girl looking into her phone camera, and something seemed eerily familiar about her.

He pressed play and turned the sound up just a little so he could hear what she was saying. Cars were racing past behind the camera and honking, so it was a little hard to make out her voice. As soon as he did, he knew exactly where she was from.

And just like that, Spider-Man popped into the frame with her. She looked giddy with awe and excitement, and as Pete watched the video, he could remember as clear as day what she had said.

“Spider-Man! Can you say hi to my friend Gwen? She’s a huge fan!” She had asked, eyes wide looking at the camera.

“Hey Gwen, how ya doin’?” Spider-Man sent a wink into the camera.

He remembered he that had had a very good day, and he was still high on adrenaline from chasing down a robber from Mr Delmar’s recently rebuilt store. Watching himself now in the video, he cursed himself for acting so childishly.

“Did you just quote Joey Tribbiani?” She gasped.

“He’s a NY icon,” Spider-Man defended himself, looking down at the girl. She looked up at him and laughed awkwardly, but the vigilante ended the moment before it even began.

Underneath his mask he had beamed, but you couldn’t really tell in the video. “Well, I’m out. Crooks to web, kittens to rescue. It was nice meeting you!” He gave the camera a small wave before shooting a web for a nearby rooftop. The girl fumbled to quickly catch him swinging away before flipping the camera back on herself, the most gobsmacked expression plastering her face.

The video ended, and Peter checked how many views it had gotten.

_Holy shit._

_Eighty-thousand?_

It wasn’t even a video of him swinging about. He was flattered that so many people were interested in a thirty second video of him talking.

He had a little nose through the comments, and was taken by surprise at its contents.

There were less than two hundred comments, but some of them shocked Peter. A lot of them were commenting on how young his voice sounded, and how they also liked Friends (or didn’t). Of course there were a few hate comments, but Pete had learned to just move past them now.

A fair portion of comments were from girls, and a few guys, obsessing over quick wink he had given them. Some of the descriptions of what they would do to him made his eyes widen. A screen door in a hurricane? They had actually _said_ that?

Deciding that that was enough internet for today, he went to exit the app when a familiar handle caught his eye.

MJs.

She had tagged him.

_Oh no. Oh nooooooooo._

She hadn’t added anything else, just tagged him. He shut off his phone quickly and shoved it in his pocket, pushing the problem as far away as possible. Peter knew what she had meant by tagging him, obviously. But he didn’t know what she _meant._ Was she saying that she had to power to out him to the media? Would she really do that? He knew that she definitely had her views on politics.

She hadn’t ever really shared her views on Spider-Man.

He decided as soon as they touched down, he would call her and meet her for a coffee somewhere. This was something he had to do in person.

* * *

The ‘townhouse’ that Tony had sent them to was the last thing that Venice would have called a townhouse. ‘Apartment building’ was probably a more appropriate term. The whole thing was very Tony Stark. True to what Happy had told them, they arrived in the dark and got in unnoticed – well, as unnoticed as you could get in the city that never sleeps.

Peter still wasn’t talking to her, and they went their separate ways to their rooms in silence. Venice didn’t have to read his mind to know what he wanted, and nor did she want to in fear of what he was thinking of her.

_It will all be over soon._

She had barely sat down on the bed when someone knocked on her door. She took a deep breath and pushed herself off of the bed.

“Hello Happy,” she greeted him with a smile as she opened the door. He titled his head suspiciously.

“Did you read my mind just now?”

“What? No. Simple calculation – there are three of us here, one is me. Peter isn’t talking to me at the moment, so that only leaves you,” she explained.

He nodded his head thoughtfully. “Yeah I noticed on the plane things were a little frosty. You still haven’t told him?”

“No,” she answered quickly. “It would only complicate things. Better he just find out afterwards and just have to deal with it then.”

“Tony just called me to say that he found someone. Your procedure is booked in for tomorrow night, the doctor is being flown in. This building has a sub level that is fully equipped for it, Tony built it in case the Avengers needed a safe house in a repeat of the Attack.”

“Wow, that was fast.”

“He got to know a few people throughout his heart problems. So, strictly no eating or drinking until it’s over. You’ll get the day off of school of course.”

“Sure thing. Thanks, Happy.”

He nodded again, and turned to leave. He hesitated before gripping the door handle, turning back around to face her.

“Are you sure that you want to do this? It’s a big decision to make at seventeen.”

Venice straightened up. “Of course. Really, I’ve been putting it off for too long. They are far more hassle than they are worth.”

He studied her face, looking for the lie. But he couldn’t find it, and Venice knew he wouldn’t.

Happy shut the door behind himself without another word.

 _It wasn’t about want or not want,_ Venice told herself. _It’s about practicality. It’s about thinking for the future. They have no place in this world, society is just not ready for them._

* * *

Peter didn’t see Venice or Mr Stark that night, or before school the next day. Happy had driven him to school, tailed by the two security guards that Mr Stark had mentioned before – only, they looked more like maintenance crew rather than part of a billionaire’s security detail. He had to give it to them for the authenticity of their disguise.

Ned was already waiting by Peter’s locker as he walked into the building. When he finally looked up from his phone at Peter, his face turned to worry.

“Dude, Michelle was looking for you before, and she seemed super pissed. What did you do?” Ned hovered over his shoulder as Pete got his books ready for first period.

“I can’t talk you about it here,” He replied in a low voice.

Yeah, so maybe he had bailed on calling MJ the night before. But what was he supposed to say to her?

 _Hey MJ, you tagged me in a video of Spider-Man, therefore we must have coffee to discuss it –_ Too weird.

 _So I didn’t mean for you to see me jump over the gate, but surprise, I’ve been keeping a huge secret from you…_ Too risky, just in case of the slight chance that she wasn’t onto him.

Maybe he could’ve just said _MJ, wanna go to this old coffee shop on 6 th? _But that felt too close to asking her out on a date, and Peter didn’t know if he was ready to let on what he felt for her.

_Wait, what he felt for her?_

Oh Jesus, he was in trouble now.

Ned’s voice snapped him back to the present. “What? Why?” He sounded as if he thought Peter was being ridiculous, and although his back was still turned to his friend, he could basically hear Ned pulling faces behind him.

“Wait, it’s not about the _internship,_ is it?” Ned whispered back, so loudly that it rather defeated the purpose of whispering all together.

“Yes Ned, that’s exactly it.”

“Well shit.”

Peter didn’t say anything in return. What could he say? Too many people were starting to find out his not-so-secret-identity.

He closed his locker a little harder than he really needed to.

“I’ll find her at lunch, but I really have to get to class.” Peter’s tone was harsher than he had meant, and as he walked away he hoped that his friend would understand. They hadn’t even properly caught up over his time at the compound. Peter couldn’t spill everything, otherwise he’d be putting Ned at risk – but he could at least talk to him about the funky things going on with Venice.

He took a seat to the side of the room once he got to class, as far away from people as he could get. The last thing he wanted to deal with today was his unnecessarily loud classmates.

He stacked his texts around himself, creating a barricade and making himself look as uninviting as possible… Not that people were jumping at the chance to sit beside Penis Parker anyway. He always felt better when his face was hidden – either a mask or a book, it didn’t really matter.

The texts on Shakespeare were classically thick, so they did the perfect job of obscuring him. Had he not had his powers, Peter probably would have complained about how much they weighed in his bag.

“Michelle, you aren’t in this class – you haven’t been all year,” the sound of his teacher’s voice bought Pete out from his little bubble.

“I had to make a transfer, last minute subject change,” she offered.

“At the end of the semester?”

“I can go get the Dean to come down, if you like,” the girl said innocently, holding her books and laptop in one arm while she jabbed a thumb behind her.

“No, no that’s quite alright. Take a seat over there beside Betty.” The teacher almost looked fearful at the thought of the notoriously grumpy Dean.

MJ threw her a victorious smile and strode past Betty to sit down beside Peter. Without hesitating, she dismantled his little book tower and flicked through the course book.

“God, this is even more bland than I thought it would be,” she muttered, closing the cover and sliding it to the front of the desk, as far away from herself as possible.

“Did you actually transfer classes?”  

“No, I’m actually missing out on a stirring conversation about the purpose of philosophy right now.” She told him, nodding along and pretending to listen to the teacher’s introduction.

Peter didn’t say anything, so MJ continued.

“A couple of weeks ago, our class got talking about Spider-Man, discussing his role in the city after a particularly aggressive report from the Daily Bugle,” Peter remembered what it had said. “And we came to the conclusion that while he does help the police and deter crime, his existence also threatens with the fact that the NYPD are not good enough to keep our streets safe. If he were to retire by whatever means, crime would rise exponentially not only due to his absence but also due to the loss of faith in our police officers. Personally though, I think that just he’s doing some good in a city with a lot of bad. The loss of faith in the cops is a result of poor character within the public.”

Peter cocked his head at her, face twisted into a befuddled expression. “You snuck out of class to tell me that Spider-Man is counterproductive to stopping crooks?”

“Partially – I really wanted to see your face when I said that you suck. Not as great as I hoped, but more than I thought I’d get. You really do _suck_ at keeping secrets.”

Peter opened his mouth to argue his innocence, but the daring look that MJ was giving him made him slowly close it to reconsider.

After a few considerable moments of silence, he spoke up. “Are you going to out me?”

She chortled. “No, I’m not a stone cold bitch. Jesus, Parker.”

“Well I know that you’re right into politics and stuff…” he trailed off, not quite sure where his defence was going.

“I also like books. That doesn’t mean I’m going to try and turn your secret into a best seller. That’s your business. Besides, I’ve had a hunch for a while – your acrobatics just sealed the deal.”

“Awesome. Do you mind if we stop talking about it here though?” They had already been talking in hushed tones, but Pete spoke even lower, looking around at all the possible ears that could be listening.

Michelle nodded in agreement, and they spent the rest of the class silent. It had gone better than Pete had expected it too, but he still came away from the brief conversation with mixed feelings. On the one hand, he was relived that MJ seemed cool with the whole situation. That made things easier. But then she had also said she had had ‘a hunch’ for a while. Had he become too relaxed in keeping his secret identity a secret?

His mind went around in circles over the question as he wondered if anyone else had picked up a ‘hunch’. He got so distracted by it, that he nearly forgot to bring the pages of code to the cafeteria for Ned to check out. If his friend could figure out how the UN was encrypting their messages, then it would be a huge break.

Pete could do with a break right about now.

 

* * *

Ned was waiting in the cafeteria when Peter walked in, eager to talk to his friend. They slid to sit at their usual table which was completely unoccupied, everyone keeping clear of them as if their low social status was contagious.

Ned began hounding straight away.

“What are you going to say to MJ when she comes over?”

“I’ve already talked to her Ned – she busted into my English class,” Peter watched his friend’s  eyes widen.

“Did it go well?”

Peter gave him a thumbs up as he bit into his first wrap.

“So does she know?”

Another thumbs up.

“Is that good, or bad? I mean, it’d be cool if she was finally in the know with us.”

Peter sighed. “I don’t know, I think I can trust her? She said she wouldn’t out me at least.”

Ned nodded slowly, considering this new information. Both boys knew already that Michelle would be good to her word, but it was hard not to be a little cautious. It was beyond important that Spider-Man remained a separate identity to Peter’s.

MJ joined them only a few moments later, sitting directly opposite them. Peter noticed that she was reading a different book to the one that he had last seen her with.

“So, uh, welcome to Team Spidey?” Ned offered hesitantly, wary of what reaction he’d get.

“There’s a Team Spidey?”

“Sometimes,” Peter interjected.

“Just when there’s like, some next level criminals that he’s fighting,” Ned explained.

Peter jumped as he remembered. “Oh yeah, Ned I’ve got that stuff for you to look at,” he pulled his bag up onto the table and carefully pulled out the manila folder.

There was no writing on the folder to indicate anything of the contents, but as soon as Ned opened it up, his jaw dropped a little.

“Peter I thought you meant computer code! Not like hidden message codes. This is insane, I mean…” Ned trailed off as he flicked through the papers, glancing through all letters. It almost looked like someone had bashed their head against the keyboard when they had typed it.

“Can I have a look?” MJ asked, pushing her novel to the side. Peter shrugged at Ned as he looked to Pete for confirmation, giving the go ahead.

Only Peter’s enhanced ears could catch MJ muttering obscenities under her breath. She was silent for several minutes, and so the boys gave up waiting for her to say something and kept eating their lunch. Peter had nearly finished his second wrap when MJ passed them a sheet each.

“You guys should keep looking too.”

The last thing that Pete wanted to do was look at that code again, after he had spent the better part of the week on it with Venice. But he did as MJ asked anyway, perusing through it while he ate. It still made shit all sense to him.

“I know where I’ve seen this,” MJ said quietly, finally looking up at them.

“Where?” Pete sounded almost desperate.

He was very desperate.

“Outside the Headquarters of the CIA in Virginia. They have a sculpture there, _Kryptos,_ that has an uncracked code. Only three of the four segments have been decoded. I’m going to bet that somehow, the artist was in on this. That the only way that it could be the same code. Not even the agents who work at the headquarters know how to decode this. Where the hell did you get this Peter?” MJ almost sounded scared.

“I can’t tell you guys, but its from over the CIA. Is the artist still alive?”

“James Sanborn? Yeah, he’s 74 now.”

“They must have gotten him,” Peter murmured, mostly to himself.

The bell cut off any further conversation, dismissing them to their next classes. Peter’s mind was reeling with this new information, daunted by the fact that master decoders and CIA agents couldn’t solve this code – how the hell was he meant to?

He spent the rest of the day researching the sculpture and the man who had created it, wondering if somehow he could reach him to talk. There was scarcely a crumb of information on him online – it was almost as if he’d been wiped from the world. His name was mentioned in credit to artworks, a little about where he grew up and worked, but anything about him from 2005 onwards was non-existent.

This was going to be tricker than he had hoped.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So MJ is cool with everything... and a fantastic addition to team Spidey? I think so! But is Peter going to strap his brain back on and figure out Venice's plan before she goes through with it? Who knows ;) 
> 
> Is there another Avenger that anyone desperately wants to make an appearance?? Comment please!


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